


Pixie Dust and Cigarette Ashes

by Silverock



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: College AU, F/F, Fluff, Katya's determined, Smut, Trixie's 18, Trixie's hard to get, katya's 21, obviously, you really should read this for your own good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-12-30 02:58:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18306809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverock/pseuds/Silverock
Summary: “Do you two know each other?” Courtney asks, breaking the palpable tension in the room, her Australian accent making her words blur together like always.Blue eyes meet brown, a question hanging in the air, and Katya decides to be the one who answers, seeing the way Trixie is fiddling with the edges of her sweatshirt. Katya wishes she would just take it off.“We met at a party, about a month ago.” She answers with a smile and tone that could easily be mistaken for nonchalant, but Trixie knows better.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know what you're thinking! Me?? Writing an AU, F/F, not from the characters' POVs? It's madness! Please be so kind to let me know what you think in the comments so I wouldn't become too emotionally invested in a story nobody likes if that's the case!

Katya is rudely woken up by her alarm, telling her she has about an hour to get ready for school. Her first class of the day is contemporary art, and she absolutely loves the teacher, but nothing sounds appealing at 8am. She groans when she turns on the en-suite bathroom’s lights, her blue eyes assaulted by the brightness. She wraps a short blue robe around her naked body and brushes her teeth, deciding that she has to get some coffee in her system before she could even try to pick out an outfit for the day. Her sense of fashion is questionable enough as it is, so sleep deprivation surely won’t help it.

When she hears giggling from the direction of the kitchen she sighs, because for being straight, her roommate sure does love having female friends sleep over. She loves Courtney with all her heart, but sometimes Katya would like to avoid needing to make friendly small talk with a stranger first thing in the morning. Courtney’s friends from musical theater school have been known to ruin Katya’s morning coffee by delving into analyses of the latest play they’ve attended, and while she’s definitely a sucker for anything artistic, there’s a time and a place for everything.

When Katya rounds the corner and reaches the doorway of the kitchen, the air in the room suddenly thickens, and two audible gulps can be heard. Leaning against the counter and next to Courtney, is Trixie Mattel, a vision in pink. Her long blonde hair falls over one shoulder and she’s clad only in an oversized pink sweatshirt. Her pale legs seem to stretch for miles and Katya’s eyes travel down them in a journey that feels endless.

On the other side of the kitchen, Trixie’s breath hitches in her throat, and she feels her body catching on fire because of the sight before her, and Katya’s heated gaze. Her thighs are strong and tan, and the robe she’s wearing barely covers her most intimate area, definitely doing nothing to hide the way her nipples pucker. Trixie thinks for a second maybe it’s from the cold, but the heater is on so that’s not very likely. Katya’s dirty blonde hair is wavy around her face, reaching to her shoulders and framing her strong jaw, highlighting the way her collarbones stretch against taut skin.

“Do you two know each other?” Courtney asks, breaking the palpable tension in the room, her Australian accent making her words blur together like always.

Blue eyes meet brown, a question hanging in the air, and Katya decides to be the one who answers, seeing the way Trixie is fiddling with the edges of her sweatshirt. Katya wishes she would just take it off.

“We met at a party, about a month ago.” She answers with a smile and tone that could easily be mistaken for nonchalant, but Trixie knows better.

“Oh, cool! Trixie and I will be working on a project all semester long, so you’ll be seeing a lot more of her.” Courtney says cheerfully, oblivious to the silent conversation happening between the stares of the two girls.

“Wonderful.” Katya says, her voice going deeper than usual, trying to catch Trixie’s eyes which are now trained on her own nails.

“Alright, Trix, I’m gonna hit the shower and then we can start working okay?” Courtney asks, already making her way to the bathroom.

“No worries.” Trixie answers once she finds her voice.

As soon as the bathroom door shuts Katya makes her way to Trixie in long strides, crowding her against the counter with a hand near each side of her. She’s shorter, but the confidence she exudes makes the few centimeters difference negligible. Once again this morning, Trixie’s breath gets stuck in her throat.

“Was haunting my dreams not enough for you, and you had to show up in my apartment as well?” Katya asks, her eyes taking in the soft features of Trixie’s face in daylight.

“I didn’t know you live here!” Trixie whispers back harshly.

“You look even more beautiful than I remembered.” Katya says, a smile tugging at her lip as she raises one hand to gently stroke Trixie’s cheek.

“I told you, Katya, I’m a good Catholic girl with a boyfriend.” Trixie says when she sees the way Katya licks her lips, knowing how unconvincing her argument sounds when she says it so breathily.  

“Didn’t sound too Catholic when you were moaning my name.” Katya tells her, and Trixie thinks she might as well give up on trying to breathe when in Katya’s presence.

“I was drunk.”

“No Pixie, you weren’t.” Katya says, and steals a chaste kiss before abruptly turning around and leaving the room.

The way Trixie’s lips tingle from where they were so briefly touched, and the nickname Katya uses, send her mind swiveling back to _that_ night.

_Her eyes had been unable to leave the girl all evening. She moved about the room not with grace, but with confidence, and seemed to know every single person there. She was wearing a problem patterned oversized men’s button-down shirt as a dress, fishnets, and heeled black boots, and Trixie thought that it somehow made complete sense. Her red lips effortlessly blew smoke from her cigarette, as if it was air, and even across the room her blue eyes were piercing, surrounded by black eyeshadow. Trixie knew she had to calm herself down, she was there with her boyfriend, and she swore to her mother to give him a chance. When her mom found out about Trixie’s sneaking around with girls in high school, she insisted that Trixie was just confused, and made her promise to try dating the nice boy from across the street, who’d be going to the same school as her. David was definitely very sweet and considerate, but Trixie couldn’t really lie to herself, and she knew the only reason she stayed with him was because he never insisted on touching her in any way. They had mainly just kissed and went out for dinners, and if that appeases her mom then Trixie’s willing to make the sacrifice for now._

_“If you keep staring at me like that your boyfriend might get jealous.” A voice whispers in her ear, and she cusses herself for being so obvious. She sets down the drink she was about to pour herself, and turns around to look at the object of her admiration._

_“I think you’re hallucinating.” She answers, trying to keep her voice steady._

_“I think you’re full of shit.” The blonde in front of her answers with a devilish grin._

_“I’m just a sweet Christian girl.” Trixie says, batting her lashes, half aware of just how sexual that line is._

_“I highly doubt the thoughts in that pretty head of yours could be classified as Christian.” The girl answers, lifting her shaped brow and biting her lower lip as she waits for a response. The sight makes Trixie unexpectedly courageous, and the words leave her mouth before she can even register they have._

_“Come upstairs in two minutes and find out.” She says, and swiftly makes her way up the stairs and towards the bedroom she knows belongs to the guy who’s house they’re in. She’s sure he wouldn’t mind._

_A couple of minutes later the blonde appears, and Trixie’s waiting at the doorway of the room at the end of the hall just for her. She smiles when she sees her and Trixie can count all thirty two of her pristinely white teeth. She smiles too and walks back into the room, waiting for the girl to shut the door behind her. She approaches her with a smirk and Trixie stops her with a hand on her chest right before she could lean to kiss her, feeling the way the stranger’s heart beats faster than normal._

_“What’s your name?”_

_“Why do you want to know?” The girl asks, her arms wrapping around Trixie’s waist to bring her closer._

_“So I’d know what to moan when I cum.” Trixie answers, and tilts her head with a smile when she sees the surprise on the other girl’s face._

_“Katya.” She says, a Russian accent audible from the way she pronounced the ‘t’. Katya lifts Trixie, who instinctively wraps her legs around her, and lies her on the bed, coming rest on top of her. “What’s your name?”_

_“Trixie.” She answers, her hands coming to stroke the sides of Katya’s small body, making her shiver slightly._

_“That seems fitting.” Katya says, her fingers brushing back a few strands of blonde hair that fell on Trixie’s eyes. “You’re like a little fairy, a pixie.”_

_The sweet words, and the way Katya says them so softly while looking adoringly down at her, send electricity through Trixie’s body, and she finally lifts her head to close the distance between them. The kiss starts tentatively, close mouthed, getting accustomed to the feeling of each other’s lips. Then Trixie reminds herself that her boyfriend is waiting downstairs, and that she unfortunately needs to hurry, so she allows herself to be braver and opens her lips so she could glide them against Katya’s. They’re so much softer than she thought they would be, the faint taste of cigarettes only turns her on more, and she wants Katya to stain her body with red lipstick the way she stained the brown filter of her Marlboro._

_Katya slides her tongue inside of Trixie’s mouth and fights her for dominance, which the girl quickly grants her. She brings her hands to squeeze Trixie’s full breasts through the fabric of her dress and Trixie moans into her mouth, a sound which Katya gladly swallows._

_“I’m gonna make you see stars Pixie.” She whispers against her lips once she breaks their kiss._

_“You’ve got twenty minutes, so you better get going with that.” Trixie answers, her hands roaming down to grab Katya’s firm ass through her stockings and squeeze it, grinding up to meet her hips. She’s already dripping wet._

_With a smile and another peck to her lips, Katya makes quick work of Trixie’s pink dress and throws the expensive garment to the floor, both girls removing their shoes. She reaches behind and with a swift flick of her fingers opens the clasp of Trixie’s bra, discarding it too. The sight that greets her makes her mouth water, and when she goes to straddle Trixie’s hips she takes the full breasts in her hands and massages them, earning a small whimper from Trixie. The sound doesn’t satisfy her, however, and she lowers her head so she could take one nipple in her mouth, sucking on it then flicking it with her tongue, the fingers of her hand lightly pinching and rolling the other nipple._

_“Katya.” Trixie moans, bringing her fingers to tangle in Katya’s wavy hair._

_“Tell me what you want baby.” Katya says against her skin, slowly pressing kisses down her stomach._

_“You know what I want.” She groans, feeling Katya’s hot breath against the wet patch that’s formed in her panties._

_“This?” Katya asks, placing a soft kiss on the wet fabric._

_“More.” Trixie moans, her bare feet moving against the cool sheets of the bed as she gets impatient._

_Katya looks up and smiles, loving how riled up she could get the blonde doll above her, and decides to be nice and take off her panties, because she can’t wait to taste her, and make her go even wilder. Once the thong joins the rest of the items on the floor, Katya lets her hands travel up the length of Trixie’s legs, and spreads soft kisses up her thigh, until she reaches her target._

_“Please, Katya.” Trixie whispers, coming to rest on her elbows._

_Locking eyes with her, Katya finally lowers her lips to where Trixie wants her most, and licks a long stripe from her core up to her clit, causing Trixie to throw her head back and sigh with pleasure. Katya then closes her mouth around the small bud and begins to suck on it, letting a finger pry Trixie’s entrance open and slowly inserting it. When she lets another finger in and starts working them in and out, flicking her tongue with increasing speed on Trixie’s clit, the girl above her loses her balance and her elbows fail to hold her up any longer._

_“I’m so close.” Trixie manages to gasp out, bringing her hands again to Katya’s hair and holding her down while she curls her fingers inside her, hitting just the right place._

_“Come on little pixie.” Katya whispers, and lowers her lips again to suck mercilessly on Trixie’s most sensitive spot. That sends her over the edge, and she moans the Russian girl’s name loudly, hips bucking up and thighs quivering. Katya is ruthless, and she laps at the girl’s juices and keeps working her fingers in and out through the aftershocks, almost to the brink of pain but careful not to cross it._

_“Come up here.” Trixie says, clearly still struggling to regulate her breathing. Katya gladly obliges and crawls up her body with a trail of small kisses. She leans up and kisses Katya passionately, tasting herself on the other girl’s tongue, her whole body overheated. Trixie lets her hands travel down and with a quick move, she rips Katya’s fishnets right between her legs, causing the girl to gasp into her mouth. Lowering her lips to spread warm open-mouthed kisses along Katya’s neck, she moves the girl's underwear aside and gathers her wetness on her fingers, dragging them up so she can start working on her clit. Katya has worked herself up when she was going down on Trixie, enjoying every single second of it, and her body is practically shaking with want._

_“Pixie, you feel so good.” Katya breaths in her ear, and she can tell how close she is by the way she’s gripping her arms for dear life. Trixie sucks on the girl’s neck hard, knowing she’s going to leave a mark, determined to make her cum just by touching her like this, not even going inside. She yanks on her hair a little to lift Katya’s head, and quickens the pace of her fingers, making Katya groan against her lips. Her blue eyes are dark and her pupils are dilated, and she’s gorgeous._

_“Come on Katya, cum for me.” Trixie whispers, attaching their lips together again and pressing her fingers even harder against Katya’s clit. That seems to be her undoing, and the sound she makes could have been classified as a scream if it wasn’t muffled by the kiss the two share. Trixie continues to stroke her slowly as Katya comes down from her high, her thin hips bucking and her nails digging into the skin of Trixie’s arms. Their kiss gradually becomes slow too, almost lazy, and Trixie’s fingers are still moving on Katya because she loves the way it makes her shiver every few seconds._

_The moment feels far too romantic and intimate for a one-night stand, and a thought inevitably crosses both of their minds. They’re screwed._

Almost an entire month later, when Trixie stands in the kitchen staring after Katya’s retreating form, a similar thought emerges again. She’s screwed.              


	2. Chapter 2

About a week later, Katya comes back late in the evening from school, having worked on a painting at the studio for hours without noticing the passing of time. One minute it was two o’clock in the afternoon and next thing she knew, it was already seven, and the white canvas she was working on was suddenly full of colors. She gathered her things slowly, glancing again and again at her creation, finding it hard to separate from it after having worked on it for so long. She knows she’ll be able to come again tomorrow, and maybe add a few final touches, but she already misses it. That’s the thing about her, Katya is an artist, a perfectionist, and she won’t let the brush leave her hand for hours on end before she’s at least somewhat satisfied with the result. Her paintings to her are the manifestation of the words and thoughts she struggles to formulate, and they’re as crucial a part of her existence as breathing is.

As she pulls out the key from her pocket she can hear laughing from inside the apartment, and her heart skips a beat in a way that doesn’t allow her to deny she hopes to find a beautiful barbie doll inside. She opens the door slowly, so as to let her heart find a normal rhythm again, and when she steps inside her hopes and suspicions are confirmed. On her couch sits a stunning blonde girl, dressed in a pink women’s blazer that shows her incredible cleavage, matching pink tailored pants, and of course heels that are sinfully high. Her face is done beautifully, her big brown eyes have shades of pink and gold around them, her cheeks are contoured and highlighted in a way that shows just how stunning her soft features are, and her lips are pink and glossy and begging for Katya to kiss them.

She’s focusing hard on what appears to be a smokey eye she’s doing for Courtney, her tongue between her lips in concentration, and she doesn’t look up. Katya is somewhat grateful for that, because it gives her even more time to drink in the vision that Trixie Mattel is. She closes the door gently, so as to let them know she’s there without disturbing the process.

“Okay, all done.” Trixie tells Courtney, still not looking up, checking to see that everything is symmetrical. She pulls a mirror to Courtney’s face once she’s happy with her work, and the Aussie screeches.

“Oh my god, Trixie, I look so hot!” She yells, earning laughter from both girls. “Katya, look!” She yells again, shaking Katya from her thoughts and turning around so she could see her made up face. She does look gorgeous. Katya has never seen her with this type of make-up, and there’s something resembling pride in her chest at the fact that Trixie was the one to do it.

“Babe, you look really hot.” She says with a smile, coming to rest on the arm of the couch. “Good job Trix.” She adds, nodding towards the girl who finally meets her stare. She looks divine.

“It’s easy when you have a model who’s so naturally pretty.” She says, winking sweetly at Courtney.

“Yeah, you should try doing Katya’s make-up, I doubt it’ll turn out half as good.” She jokes, and Katya smacks her head lightly.

“Yeah, maybe one day.” Trixie says, trying to stir the conversation away from the topic. Katya is beautiful, doesn’t need even an ounce of make-up, but she can’t really say that out loud.

“Actually, I’m heading out to the bar soon with some friends, how about you do my make-up?” Katya asks, trying unsuccessfully to mask a cheeky grin.

“Umm… We’re kind of in a hurry to get to the theater.” She answers, hoping that would be a good enough excuse. Having her face mere inches away from Katya’s is dangerous.

“No, we’ve got like twenty minutes.” Courtney says, obliviously obstructing Trixie’s plan.

“Great. I’m sure Trixie can finish me off in twenty minutes.” Katya says with a wink at the blonde's direction, and gets up to the bathroom, the blush that rises on Trixie’s face not going unnoticed by her. She washes her face from the morning’s make-up and when she returns to the living-room, she sees Courtney’s gone. “Where’s Court?” She asks, coming to sit in front of Trixie, their knees touching and making her body feel warmer than it did a minute ago.

“She’s FaceTiming her brother until we leave.” Trixie answers, rummaging around in her makeup bag. “I don’t have your foundation color so I’m just gonna do your eyes and lips, okay?”

“As long as you make me look presentable, I’m good with whatever you do.” 

“I’m gonna make you look more than presentable, I’m a certified make-up artist.” Trixie says, picking out dark eyeshadows and shades of red lipstick from her overflowing bag.

“Alright, let’s see what those hands of yours can do.” Katya says, biting the inside of her cheek to restrain another smug grin.

“You know exactly what my hands can do.” Trixie answers nonchalantly, without even changing her tone, looking Katya dead in the eye and sending an electric shock down her spine. “Close your eyes.”

Katya obeys and does as told, and she can feel the soft touch of a brush on her eyelid. Trixie’s motions are calculated, and trained, and she trusts her without question. She wonders if the canvas she paints on feels the way she does now, and notes how Trixie holds the brush as if her life depends on it, similar to the way Katya holds her painting brushes when she touches them to the blank surface. Katya can feel the other girl’s soft breaths against her lip, from their close proximity, and the air between them is filled with the intoxicating scent of Trixie’s perfume. She breaths it in deeply, letting the sweetness of the vanilla and some unidentified flower soothe her.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.” Trixie says quietly when she changes to use a different brush and applies some pressure with it against Katya’s eye.

“Yeah, we should probably come up with a safe word.” She answers with a smile, wishing she could open her eyes to gauge Trixie’s reaction. Is she blushing again? She really hopes so.

“Stop it Katya.”

“I can’t.” She whispers, letting her hands come to rest on Trixie’s knees, earning an exasperated sigh from the girl.

“Open your eyes.” Trixie says, and involuntarily smiles when Katya does as told, because now that she has finished with the dark eyeshadow and mascara, Katya’s eyes shine in a way that is bordering celestial. The silver color she used in her tear duct accentuates the flecks of grey amidst the pale blue, and Katya’s simply inarguably breathtaking.

Their eyes are locked on one another, their smiles mirrored, and Katya is way too bold for Trixie’s own good so she leans forward and captures her lips with her own. In her state of shock, Trixie nearly forgets her promises to herself and her mom, and for a few long seconds she returns the kiss, because Katya’s lips are full and soft and she can’t help it. But Trixie realizes things all too quickly, and she pushes the other girl away, looking at her angrily.

Ignoring Katya’s growing smirk, she takes two shades of red lipstick and uses the darker one to line Katya’s lips that were on hers far too long ago. Katya’s hands are squeezing her knees repeatedly as she fills in the lip with a lighter shade of red, and it takes everything Trixie has in her not to slap the girl or possibly just strip her naked.  

“Look at you!” Courtney says, emerging from her room and giving Katya an appreciative one over. “Trixie, she looks so good!”

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy, but we made it.” She answers, gathering all her products back into the bag to the sound of the other girls laughing.

“Alright, thanks for the glow up Trix. You kids have fun.” Katya says and then gets up, leaving the place where her hands used to be suddenly feeling cold, and making Trixie wish she would turn around at least once so she could see those blue eyes again.

Katya doesn’t, and Trixie scolds herself for even having that thought. She came to college hoping to have a new start, and promised her mother that she’ll be focused on school and on letting herself open up to the idea of dating men. That means that fantasizing about blonde blue-eyed girls with an addiction for cigarettes and trying to fluster her is off the table. Later that night, after returning from the play, Trixie finds herself in bed still thinking about Katya’s behavior earlier in the evening, and decides that for her own sake she needs to be more stern in rejecting the girl's advances. She pulls out her phone and texts Courtney, asking for Katya’s number with the excuse of needing her help to translate some Russian instructions for a new face mask she bought. Once she receives the number, she sends a text without even realizing she hasn’t stated who it is from.

> **Trixie:  
> ** You can’t just go around kissing people like that
> 
> **Katya:  
> ** Who is this?
> 
> **Trixie:  
> ** It’s Trixie
> 
> **Katya:  
> ** Oh hey Pixie! I would have you know I don’t go around kissing people. Just you :)

Trixie finds that hard to believe. Katya’s a stunning 21-year-old girl, with a very obvious sexual appetite and no obligations. There’s no reason for her to focus all her attention on Trixie, and it’s quite unlikely that she does.

> **Trixie:  
> ** I have a boyfriend Katya.
> 
> **Katya:  
> ** Your lips tasted so sweet

She sighs at that, wishing that Katya hadn’t said that. The kiss only served to remind her again of the night the two had together, or rather the brief encounter that they had, which ended in leisurely kisses and gentle touches of fingertips on skin.

> **Trixie:  
> ** It’s called lip-gloss. You can buy one and taste it all you want
> 
> **Katya:  
> ** I much prefer tasting it off of you though
> 
> **Trixie:  
> ** You need to stop.
> 
> **Katya:  
> ** But I only just started princess

Katya is dangerous. She’s a risk to all the promises Trixie has made, and to the cold exterior she tries to put on in order to keep them and avoid unnecessary heartbreak from a girl who will clearly move on as soon as she’s done with her. She can tell Katya is all about the chase, and that’s just not worth Trixie abandoning the rules she has set herself.

> **Trixie:  
> ** I’m serious.
> 
> **Katya:  
> ** You wouldn’t have kissed me back if you were serious
> 
> **Trixie:  
> ** It was an instinct.
> 
> **Katya:  
> ** I prefer to think of it as a primal urge
> 
> **Trixie:  
> ** Katya, please
> 
> **Katya:  
> ** I can’t wait to hear you moan those words again

She closes her eyes at that and sighs again, throwing her head against the pillow in frustration. Katya might actually be the death of her.

> **Trixie:  
> ** You’re impossible. Goodnight.
> 
> **Katya:  
> ** Goodnight angel, I’ll be dreaming of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okayyyyy I absolutely love writing text conversations so we'll have a few more of those coming up, please let me know if that's something you're into! Also just in general your feedback on this story is much appreciated! I know this chapter is kind of short so I'll be posting another one very very soon. Thank you for reading xxx


	3. Chapter 3

It’s almost evening, and Trixie is sitting in the library together with Courtney, doing research for their project, when suddenly the air in the room feels denser than it did a moment ago. Instinctively lifting her head from the screen to see what has caused the shift in atmosphere, Trixie spots a blue-eyed Russian approaching their table. She’s wearing black jean shorts, a tank top that makes it clear she has no bra under, a hideous looking cardigan, and her Doctor Martens. Trixie still has no clue how she makes those outfits work oh so well, too well, and she wonders how it is even possible that her body knew Katya is in the room without seeing her.

“Is that Katya? What is she doing here?” She asks Courtney quickly, hoping to sound casual but failing miserably.

“Oh, I didn’t feel like taking the train so I asked her to drive me home once we finish here.” The Australian girl answers without looking up, and Trixie looks at her as if she fell from the moon. Courtney absolutely loves taking the train, and the ride from the university to their apartment is not even that long. Hell, the drive from Katya’s school to theirs is longer. Before she has time to grill her further on the odd request, and on why Katya agreed to it, the girl reaches their desk.

“Hi ladies.” She says, her voice as mischievous as her grin and the look in her eyes, and she kisses Courtney’s head lightly before coming to sit next to Trixie. Deciding that Katya looks far too stunning today, Trixie opts to continue staring at her screen, reading again and again the lines in front of her, attempting to make any sense of them while Katya’s unique scent of cigarette smoke and some heavenly perfume envelopes her. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Katya has pulled out her cellphone, apparently not even trying to hide the fact she didn’t come here to study. A notification from the message app appears on Trixie’s screen, and she wants to laugh when she sees it’s from Katya, as if it could have been from anyone else.

> **Katya:  
>  **You look gorgeous today Pixie

That nickname again. Trixie needs to force herself not to close her eyes and sigh, memories of _that_ evening flooding her mind every time Katya uses the name. She concentrates even harder on not blushing.

> **Trixie:**  
>  Don’t call me that
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Why? Does it remind you of our night together?
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  Yes.
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  And what’s so bad about that?
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  There’s nothing bad about it. That’s the problem.

She can’t lie, so maybe begging for Katya’s pity would do the trick. Katya is 21, mature and so open about everything, so she has probably accepted her sexuality years ago and could not care less what anyone thinks. Trixie, on the other hand, comes from a family and environment where being the way she is, is considered wrong. She’s still 18, still needs to go back home during the holidays, still receives very generous amounts of money from her parents as well as them paying her tuition fees in full, so the least she can do is respect her promise to them to at least try. And boy is she trying hard.

> **Katya:**  
>  Let me make you feel good again

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a soft hand placing itself on her bare thigh, heating up not just her leg but her entire body. The hand begins moving, gently stroking her thigh and lightly dragging her nails across it. Trixie takes a few seconds, regulating her breathing and biting her lip so she wouldn’t groan in frustration, before typing again.

> **Trixie:**  
>  Stop that.
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Your skin is so soft. I wanna kiss you all over

Trixie squirms in her sit when she reads the message, feeling heat pooling between her legs embarrassingly fast just at the image of Katya doing just that, accompanied by the incredibly tender touch of her hand. She is definitely going to be the death of her.

> **Trixie:**  
>  You can’t. I have a boyfriend.
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Tell that to my hand

At that, Trixie decides to do just as told, and grabs Katya’s hand, pushing it away harshly. The Russian girl is playing her, and the issue is that she knows just how, that she has somehow figured out all of Trixie’s buttons. Trixie almost laughs when she hears Katya cuss under her breath, probably realizing that she pushed it too far.

> **Trixie:**  
>  I’m not a cheater.
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Break up with him then!!
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  For what? A quickie with you?
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  It doesn’t have to be a quickie. I can eat you out for hours baby

Trixie is now certain that she soaked through her panties, and she prays it hasn’t leaked onto the seat below her. She’s certain that Katya can eat her out for hours, she has no doubt she _would_ if Trixie only asked her to. She might actually do it without being asked - even the short encounter the two had told Trixie all she needs to know about what a generous lover Katya is, focusing all her attention on pleasuring the other person. The knowledge that if Trixie agreed to it, she could be the center of that undivided attention right now, is highly dangerous. She forces her fingers to type, even though she wishes they’d be doing something a whole lot different.

> **Trixie:**  
>  Katya. Stop.
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Tell me the thought of it doesn’t make you wet

Trixie is not one for lying, never has been, so she glances up to see if Courtney is looking at them. When she sees that the girl is concentrated on her work, she takes one hand off the keyboard and reaches down, moving her panties aside and sliding two fingers against her own wetness. Ignoring the burning in her cheeks, which are surely crimson by now, and just how good that brief touch felt, she smears the wet fingers on Katya’s bare thigh and returns her hand to the keyboard.

> **Trixie:**  
>  I can’t.

She hears rather than sees Katya’s gulp, and out of the corner of her eye she notices how the girl crosses her legs, pressing her thighs together. Trixie feels a jolt of pride then, for being able to make the overly confident girl beside her at least partially as flustered as she makes her.

> **Katya:**  
>  Has your boyfriend ever made you feel as good as I did?
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  I don’t let him touch me like that.
> 
> **Katya:  
>  **Then let me touch you baby

“Hey Trix!” She suddenly hears her boyfriend calling, making her jump and the hand that was making its way up her thigh again retrieve itself. She wishes she couldn’t say that she misses it, but her skin tingles where the fingers were a second ago, in a way that tells her that her wishes can be damned. David kisses her cheek awkwardly, like always, again asserting himself as the only 18 year old guy in the world that doesn’t try to shove his tongue down his girlfriend’s throat whenever he can. She smiles meekly at him, half thankful he came to rescue her and half furious that he did.

“Where are you going?” Courtney asks when she sees Trixie packing her things into her bag. “I thought you could come over to our place for dinner.”

“I’m having dinner with David babe.” She answers, wondering where that plan even came from, since Courtney made no mention of it earlier.

“Oh, alright, you two have fun.” The Aussie says, sounding almost disappointed.

Finishing packing her things, and trying not to read too much into her friend’s strange behavior, Trixie parts from the girls at the table with a wave over her shoulder and a “Bye guys” she’s almost sure they couldn’t even hear. She’s finding herself needing to focus on walking straight, her legs threatening to fail her, especially when she looks back and sees Katya is looking straight at her, the heat in her eyes visible even from afar.

* * *

Later that evening, after having dinner with Courtney, Katya makes her way to her room and closes the door with a sigh. She cannot stop thinking about Trixie, about the way her skirt rode up on her leg, revealing almost all of it, about how soft her pale thigh felt under her fingers, and about how wet she was able to make the girl just with her texts and gentle touch. Katya had gotten quite wet herself, the feeling and sight of Trixie’s thighs reminding her of those glorious moments when her head was between them, making Trixie moan brokenly above her.

She slips into the shower with that thought in her mind, taking off the clothes from her overheated skin and carelessly throwing them to the ground.  Stepping into the shower, the cold water makes goosebumps rise on Katya’s skin and causes her to feel extremely awake and aware of just how warm her body has gotten. She takes the showerhead off the wall and rinses her hair and body, the water gradually getting hotter and more soothing. When she closes her eyes all she can see is Trixie, imagining her standing there in front of her, perfectly shaped body glistening from the water. She imagines pinning her to the wall, caressing every beautiful curve, taking her sweet time to kiss her plump lips until they become even more swollen. With the images circling in her mind, Katya moves the showerhead lower on her body, finally reaching the place that’s been aching to be touched for hours now. The strong stream causes her to shudder, reminding her of Trixie’s deft fingers working on her, making her cum with almost a lightning speed. She moans quietly into the small space of the shower stall, raising one hand to touch her breasts while she leans against the wall. She pictures taking Trixie’s pink nipple into her mouth, sucking on it and playing with it until the barbie can’t take it anymore, then switching to give the other nipple the same treatment.

Then a flash of Trixie turning back to look at her today at the library comes to her mind, the indecipherable expression on her face, and suddenly Katya feels guilty. She feels that it’s wrong to pleasure herself to that fantasy, to make herself feel good to the image of Trixie without giving the same pleasure to the object of her thoughts. She curses herself and the whole situation, lifting the shower head back up and washing her hair and body quickly so she wouldn’t risk starting to fantasize again. After drying herself and as she gets dressed, Katya tries desperately to wrap her head around the fact that a girl who’s clearly attracted to her, and clearly enjoys the company of the superior gender, has a boyfriend and refuses to just follow her desires. Trixie is undoubtedly intelligent, and Katya knows first hand (no pun intended) that there’s no question about the fact she has experience, so why is Trixie being so adamant about dating that guy and turning down Katya’s advances?

Settling in her bed, she decides she might as well just ask.

> **Katya:**  
>  Give me one reason why you guys are together

The fact that Trixie reads her message almost immediately, and starts typing, makes her smile involuntarily at the offensively bright screen.

> **Trixie:**  
>  He doesn’t grope me at any chance he gets like you do!
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Mama, if he doesn’t grope you at any chance he gets then he’s gay! Have you seen yourself?!
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  Yes, I have. I’m seeing myself right now.
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  What are you wearing?
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  An Iron Maiden shirt and no panties

That causes Katya to sit straight up in her bed, breath hitching and mouth gaping when she reads the message again three more times. Trixie Mattel, the beautiful pink fairy, wearing a metal band’s merch and no underwear? It sounds almost too good to be true, and definitely too good for her to share it with Katya so freely.

> **Katya:**  
>  Are you actually??????
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  Of course not.

Yeah, she should have guessed. Katya groans in frustration and throws herself back on the bed, wishing Trixie would just indulge her, and herself, and that for once she’d let down those god damned walls Katya has no clue why she keeps up.

> **Katya:**  
>  I hate you.
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  Good! Then back off!
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  I wish I could Pixie, but you’re too beautiful and funny for me to do that

She wants to smack herself on the head for writing that when she sees Trixie reads the message but doesn’t type back. It’s the truth, and there’s something about that girl that simply doesn’t allow Katya to say anything which isn’t. Suddenly the three dots signaling Trixie is typing appear, and her hearts beats back to life.

> **Trixie:**  
>  I’m wearing a pink silk nightie and fuzzy socks
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  You’re a real life barbie, you know that?
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  Now with moving parts!
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Oh baby, the moving is the best thing about your parts
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  Goodnight Katya.
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Goodnight pretty princess x

Smiling to herself as she reads the conversation again, she decides the image of Trixie in a pink silk nightie and fuzzy socks is too sinfully erotic not to be worshipped properly. Setting her phone aside, Katya lets her hand drift down and finish what it had started earlier, picturing exactly what it would be like to feel that soft fabric against her bare skin, and then the satisfaction of ripping it right off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you know, comments are what allows me to live, so please let me know what you thought!! I reply always xxx Next chapter is so good so please come back for more!


	4. Chapter 4

Frankly, Trixie is not even surprised anymore to see the blonde Russian girl that causes havoc in her brain on a daily basis, walking through doors to places there’s no real reason for her to be in. Somehow, Katya keeps appearing as if out of thin air, when she expects her least, red lips smiling, and blue eyes glistening with mirth and something else Trixie can never quite name. That is why, when she sees her walking in with Courtney into the house where some people from her year are celebrating Halloween, she’s not shocked in any sort of way. It appears that recently, whenever there’s a social event or even just an outing where it would be appropriate to invite a friend, Courtney makes sure to bring Katya along with her, to the extent where all their friends already know not only her name, but also the very particular way in which she flicks her cigarette and watches the ashes scatter into the wind as if they were some sort of pixie dust.

 _Pixie._ She hasn’t stopped calling her that, but never in front of anyone else. Katya only uses it in fleeting moments when she manages to catch Trixie off guard, unprepared for the way that name sends shivers down her spine, especially when it’s accompanied by sweet words and the gentle touch of Katya’s hand. Trixie tries so stay alert, is instinctively alert around Katya, aware of her every move, every sound, and every lingering gaze. Katya is a mystery, and an open book, and a dangerous mystical creature that rattles the foundations of the walls Trixie has constructed around herself so meticulously, in order to convince herself she’s okay with the lack of control she has over her own life.

It is not that she’s surprised to see Katya walk through that door, not at all, Trixie could almost count on it by now that the girl would find ways to spend time with her. She has even come to cherish many of the moments they share, has come to look forward to the way Katya’s eyes shine before she starts laughing hysterically at one of Trixie’s inappropriate jokes. What she is surprised by, is the fact that the rebellious Russian has actually put on a costume for the occasion, and not just any costume at that. Katya’s dressed as if someone imported a cheerleader straight out of Moscow, her outfit red and white, with RUSSIA printed onto her top, and lips so red that they nearly make it impossible to look anywhere else. But Trixie does look elsewhere; she looks at the way Katya’s blue eyes light up her entire face, engulfed by her beloved and trusty black eyeshadow, she looks at the piece of flesh revealed between the end of her shirt and the top of her skirt, showing her toned stomach that’s a result of what Trixie now knows is years of gymnastics and recently yoga, and she looks at the length of the skirt, which would definitely get Katya kicked out of any high school for violating the dress code. But they’re not in high school, and nobody’s kicking her out, and the skirt barely grazes the tops of her strong thighs.

Almost immediately, Katya’s eyes find hers across the room, and she gulps so loud she’s sure David can hear. Katya is unashamedly giving Trixie the exact same one over she had given her, and she feels as if she’s being eaten alive. _Devoured_. Trixie’s dressed as one of her favorite artists of all times, Dolly Parton, in a long white jumpsuit that sticks to every curve and swerve of her body. She’s wearing one of her highest pairs of heels, and she knows she stands out of the crowd, but right now a part of her wishes she could just disappear, and slide into a quiet room to rub herself off to the image of Katya staring intently at the deep cleavage of her jumpsuit, imagining the girl ripping it open and doing with her as she pleases. Trixie gulps again and tries to tear her eyes away, but looking at Katya’s plump red lips she suddenly remembers she’s wearing red lipstick too, and maybe for once she could be the one stealing a chaste kiss, and no one would know.  

Seeing the pair approaching her and David, Trixie shakes quickly the thoughts from her head, or at least attempts to as best as she can. After saying quick hellos, she pulls on his hand towards another group of friends, because Katya is literally trying to murder him with her eyes and at some point, he might notice that Trixie is trying to strip the girl naked with hers. To her great dismay, however, the inevitable point in the night comes and someone screams “Truth or dare!” and she’s being pushed to sit in a big circle of horny college students. Of course, Katya chooses to sit directly in front of her, on the other side of the circle, smiling at Trixie as if she knows what’s going on in her head.

After a few rounds, the bottle lands on David, and he’s being dared to kiss a boy of his choosing in the circle. Surprisingly, he doesn’t seem to mind all that much, despite him coming from quite a conservative background, similar to Trixie’s, and he even lingers with the kiss more than she thought he would. What doesn’t surprise Trixie, however, is that seeing him kiss another person, even if it is for a dare in a game, does not bother her in any way. David is sweet, and kind, but there’s no denying that the both of them are in this so called relationship strictly for their parents. Then the bottle lands on Katya, and she’s already holding her breath because she knows the girl well enough to notice the way her eyes sparkle with mischief. She picks dare, and when she says the word, it sounds as if she’s daring David to prove himself. As what, Trixie doesn’t know, but there’s definitely a challenge in the Russian’s voice.

“I know!” Courtney yells from besides Katya when she sees the boy is struggling to come up with something good enough to meet the challenge. “You should dare her to do one of her slow splits.”

“Alright, umm, do one of your slow splits then.” David says, stuttering, earning himself a low chuckle from Katya at his lack of confidence.

Then she gets up, and Trixie is utterly unprepared for what happens next. Staring directly at her, Katya begins to lower herself at an unbelievably slow pace onto the ground, sending each lean leg to stretch forward and backward like it is the simplest thing in the world. She stops midway, and has the nerve to yawn, like she could stay in the position all day long if she was asked to. Trixie can’t take her eyes off of her, off of the mesmerizing way Katya controls every part of her own body, and her mouth falls open when Katya stops again, mere inches from the ground. Then she punctuates her descent to the floor by hopping a little, pounding what Trixie is sure to be a pare of lacy underwear onto the carpet, and fucking winking at her. Yeah, she knows exactly what’s in Trixie’s head.

Katya returns to her spot to the sound of loud applause from the circle, and she simply smiles, high-fiving Courtney. After a few more rounds, one in which Trixie had to say where’s the raciest place she had sex in (it was a teacher’s office, with the “straight” head cheerleader, but she did not disclose the latter part of course), the bottle lands on Violet. She’s dared to make-out with another girl from the circle, and she makes her pick before the person who dared her even finishes the sentence.

“Miss Russia, get your rubber-band body onto this lap right now!” She screams with a smile, pointing onto her fishnet and bodysuit clad lower body. She’s dressed as a playboy bunny, a slutty girl’s classic. Trixie watches closely as Katya’s eyes widen, and then she gets up and walks over to Violet, doing as told and sitting square on her lap. Then she turns her head, locking her eyes with Trixie’s, making sure she’s looking, and crashes her lips onto Violet’s. She kisses her harshly, sending one hand to the girl’s neck, and letting her tongue twirl around Violet’s outside their mouths. It looks filthy, too sexual for where they are, and Trixie cannot help but feel Katya’s doing it precisely to mock her, to show her what she’s missing by dating this vanilla guy who sits next to her and looks away from the show everyone’s eyes are glued to. Then Katya pushes her away, and gets up, as if nothing had happened.

“Bitch let’s take this to the bedroom!” Violet calls after her, and Katya looks again to Trixie, trying to gauge her reaction. Trixie, however, has lost control of her body and facial expressions, so she has no clue what Katya sees. All she knows is that her blood is boiling. Then her eyes leave Trixie’s, and she doesn’t even look back towards Violet, taking the tube of red lipstick Courtney’s handing her, and heading to the bathroom upstairs. Trixie looks to Violet then, who seems not to be able to believe she’s been so blatantly declined, Katya’s lipstick smeared all over her chin and cheeks. Before she even knows what she’s doing, Trixie tells David her sister is calling, and excuses herself to go upstairs as well.

Katya is finishing reapplying her red lipstick when suddenly the door to the bathroom opens, and in steps the most perfect Dolly Parton impersonator she’s ever laid eyes on, meeting her eyes in the mirror. She sets the lipstick tube down and turns around, watching the angel in white approach her and then set each one of her hands flat on the counter behind Katya, caging her in.

“Come on princess, give me a kiss.” She says quietly, not knowing if she’s trying to challenge Trixie or convince her. Maybe she’s even begging. Trixie’s eyes flick to her red coated lips and then back up to meet hers, and she bites the inside of her cheek before doing the last thing Katya expected her to. The girl drops to her knees and reaches her hand up, the back of her fingers running over the lace of Katya’s thong.

“She must’ve been a pretty bad kisser, you’re not even wet.” She says, looking up at Katya with an arched brow as she continues to move her fingers against the fabric of her underwear, pressing against Katya’s now aching core.

“I will be if you continue doing that.” She answers, her eyes practically boggling out of her head and her throat drying, because she has no clue what’s happening.

Then Trixie’s fingers are gone, and she wants to strangle her, but the girl shocks her once again by reaching both hands and tugging down Katya’s tiny skirt together with her panties. Silence falls over the room at the sound of the garments hitting the floor, and Katya holds her breath as Trixie’s hands roam over her thighs so tenderly she thinks she might shed a tear. Then she hitches up Katya’s right leg over her shoulder, and begins scattering warm and wet open mouthed kisses along her thigh, slowly making her way towards where Katya wants her most, and leaving a trail of red lipstick in her wake. The Russian almost doesn't believe what is happening, but Trixie’s mouth insistently sucking on a spot high on her inner thigh makes her unable to deny the reality of the situation.

“Pixie.” She breaths out, wanting the girl to touch her everywhere, wanting desperately to kiss her full lips that are confidently breaking blood vessels in Katya’s thigh. Then Trixie moves her mouth and looks up, locking eyes with Katya as she lets her tongue slide out of her mouth and she flicks it, once, ever so lightly over Katya’s clit, like a small kitten lapping at milk one lick at a time. That earns her a breathless chuckle from the girl above her and a shake of her head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, Trixie smiles against her skin, and then dives in to wrap her mouth around the throbbing bundle of nerves, her hands moving to grip Katya’s hips tightly. The Russian groans and throws her head back, reaching back with her hands to the grasp the surface that could stabilize her already trembling legs. Her head begins spinning as she looks up the white ceiling, Trixie’s mouth sucking without mercy. She looks back down just in time to see the girl letting her tongue out again and starting to play with Katya’s clit, flicking it and circling it in a pattern that seems both calculated and completely improvised, somehow entirely in tune with what her body needs most.

She terribly wants to tangle her fingers in the blonde’s carefully crafted Dolly updo, make a disheveled mess out of the soft hair, and press Trixie’s face so harshly against her center that it hurts. She wants to ruin her in the best way possible. But Katya refrains, not wanting to do anything that would make the girl stop working her unbelievable magic, so she settles on whimpering and bucking her hips forwards.

Trixie seems to get the message, and she moves her tongue to lick over Katya’s lips, then pressing it in as far as she can into her entrance, drawing a deep moan from the girl above her. She then moves one finger to feel around the place her tongue had explored, and slowly brings it in, returning her lips to suck at Katya’s small pulsing bud. Unbeknownst to Trixie, the blonde is losing her mind, her eyelids fluttering as she tries desperately to keep them open, unable to detach from the sight of the barbie doll giving her so much pleasure and seeming to be enjoying herself just as much. It's a sight she'll never forget. 

Trixie brings in another finger, stretching Katya, and she moans against her at the feeling of wet warmth around her fingers and the incredible taste of the girl. The rumbles send vibrations coursing through Katya’s body, and her hands go up to grasp her own hair, small noises escaping her lips. The girl below her appears to approve of how vocal she is, because her free hand scratches the Russian’s toned thigh, and she quickens her pace, curling her fingers to hit precisely the right place. Katya can feel her stomach tightening and her all the blood in her body flowing earnestly south, and she knows she’s so close, Trixie’s fingers and mouth not giving her the option to last any longer.

“Baby I’m gonna-“ Her words turn into another low moan when Trixie immediately opens her eyes, and they’re big and nearly black, and she’s stunning. She looks up at Katya with determination and quickens the rhythm of her fingers even more, twisting them inside and flicking her tongue at a dizzying speed against Katya’s straining clit.

The sight and the feeling become all too much, and Katya drops her hands harshly onto the sink, clutching it for dear life as she feels her body beginning to shake and her release taking over her. Her eyes are forced shut, and Trixie groans against her skin, taking her fingers out to let Katya ride her tongue through the aftershocks. She laps fervently at the juices, licking and sucking, working her mouth tirelessly, wanting to give Katya every bit of pleasure that she can. When she becomes too sensitive, treading the edge of pain, Katya sends her hand down against her own pussy, trying to calm the quivering and signal Trixie to stop.

With a final, long line drawn by her tongue from Katya’s entrance to her center of nerves, Trixie receives an agonized whimper from the blonde and goes to stand up, facing the breathless girl. She licks her lips at the sight in front of her, a completely fucked out Katya, face and neck flushed, eyes bleary, and lips still impeccably red. She silently lifts her wet fingers to Katya’s lips, prying them open, and watches as they disappear into the girl’s mouth, then feels her sucking on them.

“Fucking delicious, right?” She asks, her voice low and her eyes looking directly at Katya’s sapphire ones.

Before the girl has a chance to answer, however, she pulls back her fingers and washes her hands. Trixie then picks up the tube of red lipstick that lies by the sink and applies it to her now bare lips, hearing Katya still trying to catch her breath beside her. The shade is slightly darker than the one she wore previously, and a part of her she would never admit aloud exists, wishes that Violet would notice.

Then she spins around and leaves as quickly as she came, her hips sauntering victoriously to the door. She turns her head to glance at Katya one last time, and a smile inevitably spreads across her face at the image of the girl staring after her, looking beautifully wrecked. The sound of the door clicking shut draws Katya out of her trance and she childishly pinches herself, daring what had just happened to prove itself as anything but a figment of her imagination. But it isn’t. The realization that everything that transpired in the small bathroom is real makes her already spinning head feel even heavier on her neck, and she forces her still unstable legs to bend down and picks up her clothes. Strangely, she only finds her skirt, her lace thong missing.

A smile then slowly etches itself onto her face when she realizes Trixie took it with her, along with every last strand of restraint and self-control Katya had.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nowwww we're talking! Okay please let me know what you thought of this chapter because I love it so much! Your comments are my life support.  
> Also, next chapter is gonna be quite short, so I'll try to post it as soon as possible xxx


	5. Chapter 5

> **Katya:  
> ** Good evening angel, how are you?

A week after that fateful night at the Halloween party, Trixie and Katya have not yet seen each other. Trixie found herself neck deep in books and venti Starbucks cups, working tirelessly with Courtney on the project they have due for Ms. Visage’s class. Katya, across town, was working countless hours on her newest painting, mixing colors until she reached the perfect shades, turning a white canvas into a work of art. However, that certainly did not mean that they were not in contact. Katya had been texting Trixie every single day, sometimes a mere ‘good morning’, and other days attempting to have entire conversations, never failing to mention her unquenchable desire for the barbie doll. Trixie could feel herself slowly letting down her guards, her mutual pining for the Russian blonde becoming less deniable, and more evident with every text she writes, and every night she falls asleep and finds herself wishing to wake up staring at blue eyes and smirking lips. Her sarcasm turned from being a defense mechanism, into a game between her and Katya, and she started waiting anxiously to see how the girl would respond to her. Katya’s responses are usually quick, biting, and leave Trixie breathless, blushing, and sometimes in desperate need to clench her thighs together tightly.

> **Trixie:**  
>  Exhausted from your constant attempts to get into my pants
> 
> **Katya:  
>  **If I’m not mistaken, **you** were the one in **my** pants last week

Trixie, of course, needed no reminder of the night, it was forever engraved in her memory. The urgency she felt to touch Katya everywhere, how much she wanted to kiss her but could not stand the thought of tasting Violet on the girl’s tongue, the purple mark she had left on the inside of her thigh – a secret between them, the way Katya’s blue eyes darkened when she was staring down at her, the deliriously erotic noises that escaped her red lips when Trixie was pleasuring her, and how beautifully undone she looked as she came apart around her. The memory itself is enough to render Trixie a puddle of want, an earnest need to give Katya everything, to claim her, and to be hers. But she has responsibilities, she has made promises, and she’s been taught her whole life to be a woman of her word.

> **Trixie:**  
>  It was a skirt.
> 
> **Katya:  
>  **And how did it look on the floor next to the panties you stole?

Trixie blushes as she reads the question, thinking about the thong lying neatly folded in her bedside drawer. She has no clue what came over her when she decided to snatch the garment from the floor and shove it quickly into her pocket; perhaps she wanted Katya to need to push her skirt lower, so it wouldn’t reveal so much of her slender legs to the world. Perhaps she just wanted memorabilia, not knowing when would be the next chance she gets to see the blonde girl like that. 

> **Trixie:  
>  **I wouldn’t know. I had better things to look at
> 
> **Katya:  
>  **Like what?
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  Like the stupid face you make when you cum
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Pixie I can’t stop thinking about you

If only Katya knew how similarly she felt too. If only Katya knew Trixie had been replaying every conversation they had ever had in her brain over and over, every touch, every kiss. Trixie’s mind was a theme park, and all rides were Katya-centric, every rollercoaster more frightening than the last. She felt almost paralyzed by the notion of making the parts of her she has hidden for years become public, but the Russian girl was gradually leaving her without any choice. A biting comeback was all Trixie could muster when she was faced with the nickname she has grown to secretly adore, and words that resonate with her deeply.

> **Trixie:**  
>  Yeah, you make that very clear
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Why are you like this to me?
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  What do you mean?
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  I’m so sweet to you, all I try to do is spend time with you and make you smile

Trixie can sense the hurt surging through the screen, clear in Katya’s message. However, she cannot help but recall the fact that most of her interactions with the girl have led to either a sexually charged comment, or an attempt (sometimes even a successful one) to kiss her.

> **Trixie:**  
>  You try to make me moan, that’s different.
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  That too, yeah, but it’s because that’s all you let me do! Am I some experiment to you?

Thinking back again on their time together, Trixie has to admit Katya’s not entirely wrong. The times she has been most responsive to the girl’s tries to get closer to her, were when Katya had put the topic of sex on the proverbial table, or when she had touched her. She would hate to think the way she had acted has made Katya think there is anything but Trixie’s own limitations that’s preventing her from being more open with her, let alone that she is using Katya in any way.

> **Trixie:**  
>  Of course not! Does it feel like it’s my first rodeo?
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  God no, you’re a fucking expert Trix

She can’t help blushing at that, and feeling her face beam with pride. Knowing how good she can make Katya feel, and having seen the evidence of it, will never cease to amaze her.

> **Trixie:**  
>  There we go
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Then..?
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  Then nothing. I have a boyfriend.
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Break up with him!!
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  Fine.

Staring blankly at the screen, Trixie suddenly realizes what she has written. Fine? Fine??? Is this how influential Katya’s words are on her, how much influence Katya herself has on her? Debating the question, she receives another text.

> **Katya:**  
>  Fine?

Katya seems to be just as confused as she is, and she realizes just how wound up they have become, both of them running around the idea of one another ever since the night they met, never stopping to take a breath. She needs to know, to really know, how Katya would react to the notion of having her without restrictions, of her becoming attainable.

> **Trixie:**  
>  Okay, I will.
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Are you serious Pixie??? Please don’t tell me you’re messing around

She can almost feel Katya’s desperation through the small screen, emerging from every word surrounded by the blue text bubble. She knows now why the little nickname has been haunting her since that night. It is because Katya has chosen it especially for her, had whispered it against her lips while she looked down at her with awe, and because no one in the world knows she calls Trixie that. Katya has never disrespected her boundaries, has never pushed her to publicize who she is, although she’s sure the girl sees right through her. Perhaps she always has, and that is why she chose the name for her, because Trixie is not the complete version. Trixie is, in many ways, a character put forth to convince people she is still the good Christian girl from the suburbs she hasn’t truly been since she first kissed a girl at the age of sixteen.

> **Trixie:**  
>  Yes, I’m serious. But that doesn’t mean you and I are just gonna immediately get together
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  What do you mean by that princess?
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  I mean that all you’ve done is try to seduce me. I deserve more than that Kat
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  You deserve the whole world baby

Trixie smiles at that, reading the line again as she buries her head further into the soft pillow. Her heart flutters and her body tingles with excitement, and she can’t help but feel something monumental had just occurred. She’s eighteen, nearly nineteen, her dreams and wishes are as big as the fields of the small town she left behind her when she left for college. It’s time to be who she truly is.

> **Trixie:**  
>  Then give it to me

* * *

The following evening, Katya is sitting on the couch of her living room, back against its arm and face towards the door, as she impatiently waits for the door to open. It’s Wednesday, and usually on Wednesdays Courtney comes home with Trixie, since they have Thursdays off, and the girl spends the night over. The conversation they had the previous night has been replaying in Katya’s mind all day long, and she cannot wait to ask Trixie if she went through with her decision, and what she thought of Katya’s little surprise.

As expected, at 8:15pm sharp the door opens, and in walk Courtney and Trixie, laughing with hands full of books and groceries. A smile immediately spreads across Katya’s face at the sight of the giggling ladies, and it becomes even bigger when Trixie’s eyes meet hers, and she smiles directly at her. The girls then move to the kitchen and set the groceries down, and Katya already misses Trixie’s shining brown eyes.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower and then we can make dinner, okay?” Courtney calls behind her back to Trixie as she heads to her room, stopping to kiss Katya’s head as hello.

“Yeah, I’ll start with the salad in the meanwhile.” Trixie answers, following her to the doorway.

When the door shuts she turns around, and Katya suddenly feels arms wrapping around her shoulders from behind. Then she feels soft lips on the skin exposed by her off the shoulder top, and she’s sure she will forever thank herself for picking that shirt this very night. The warm kisses travel up her neck, and linger on the exact spot that was adorned with a purple bruise over two months ago.

“Thank you for the flowers this morning.” Trixie whispers in her ear, giving her another searing kiss right below it, and coming to stand in front of her with a soft smile.

“Did you like them?” Katya asks, looking up at the tall girl and remembering how she spent an entire hour on picking just the right bouquet, in all shades of pink and red.

“They were beautiful.” She responds, her eyes shining with the sweet memory of waking up to a special delivery to her doorstep, a note attached that simply read ‘We look good together’.

“Like you.” Katya says, a shit eating grin on her face, causing Trixie to shake her head and roll her eyes. “Did you break up with him?”

“I did, actually...” She answers, recalling the conversation that went unexpectedly well, and the revelation that finally told her why David had agreed to his parents’ insistence that they date. “Turns out he’s gay, just like you said.”

“Well, that makes two of you.” Katya responds, visibly trying to hold back her laughter, especially when she notices the blush rising on Trixie’s cheeks. “Oh, come on Pixie, no straight man could resist you like that, and you know it.” She says, tugging on the other girl’s hand as she rolls her eyes again with a small smile. “Can I kiss you already?” Katya asks, pouting, dying to feel again the warm sensation that is the touch of Trixie’s lips on hers.

The girl then leans down towards her with a sweet smile and a glimmer in her eyes, and Katya holds her breath, because none of the chaste kisses she has managed to steal over the course of the past months were enough to satisfy her thirst to be kissing Trixie at any and all times. At the feeling of Trixie’s hot breath against her lips, her eyes flutter shut.

“Not yet.” She suddenly hears, and just like that, the barbie doll is retreating to the kitchen, leaving Katya a stuttering mess.

“I hate you!” Katya calls after her, her hands coming to cover her face as she mentally beats herself for the way her body shivered with anticipation.

“Yeah, I think we both know that’s not the case.” The girl shouts back, and Katya slides low on the couch, hands still over her head, knowing she is officially and royally screwed.

* * *

 Just as she’s about to set an alarm and go to sleep, lying beside an already snoring Courtney, Trixie receives a text that immediately makes her chuckle.

> **Katya:**  
>  How am I supposed to fall asleep knowing you’re in the room next to me?
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  It should make you feel safe, I took karate when I was 8
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Not to be rude Trix, but your arms are far too skinny for me to think you could cause someone any harm
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  Actually it’s my thighs that are my lethal weapon
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Oh baby, I know

Trixie blushes as she reads that, remembering the way her thighs had tightened around Katya when she was coming undone on her mouth too long ago, and the way Katya’s hand had traveled up her bare thigh under a library table, making her nearly unable to breathe.

> **Trixie:**  
>  You like my thighs?
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  I like every inch of you Pixie

At the sweet words, a though dawns on Trixie, and she abruptly sits up in the bed. She realizes that in the months they have known each other, Katya has written and told her countless times, often in the most endearing of ways, just how much she adores all the pieces that make up Trixie’s being. Guilt bubbles up in her when she begins fearing that Katya doesn’t actually know how Trixie looks at her, how much beauty she sees in her every feature, and every word she speaks.

> **Trixie:**  
>  Have I ever told you how beautiful you are Kat?
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Not with words, but sometimes you look at me and I feel like the most beautiful girl in the world  
>  Which is of course not true, because that’s you

The words cause Trixie to lie back down in the bed, and smile uncontrollably, because a big part of her knew she was not, at any point in time, doing a very good job at hiding the way Katya makes her feel. Now, she feels unreasonably happy that she’s so bad at concealing her true emotions.

> **Trixie:**  
>  That was possibly the gayest thing you’ve ever said! Congrats baby!
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Please call me baby always.
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  Maybe one day…
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Can that day be tomorrow?
> 
> **Trixie:**  
>  That depends on you
> 
> **Katya:**  
>  Goodnight angel

When the clock strikes midnight, Trixie responds.

> **Trixie:**  
>  Goodnight baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay this story is very sadly approaching its end, with only two chapters left, but they're both quite long if that's any comfort!  
> Please please please let me know if you enjoyed this chapter and the story so far, your comments are vital to my survival on this planet! xx


	6. Chapter 6

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!” Is the first thing Trixie hears the next morning, startled awake by Katya’s insistent knocking on Courtney’s door. Both girls groan, burying themselves deeper into the pillows and blanket, when Katya knocks again. “Come on, I made pancakes and coffee.” She says this more softly, and Trixie smiles to herself, thinking that perhaps the Russian girl has gone through the effort of waking up early, which she hates, and cooking, which she also hates, for her.

“Five minutes mom!” Courtney yells back at her, and they can hear Katya’s grunt coming through the door. “Can you sleep here every night? I love her pancakes.” She asks Trixie as she begrudgingly gets up off the bed, and Trixie’s glad she can’t see the way she blushes at the question. How much does Courtney actually know about the situation between her and Katya? Evidently, she also thinks the breakfast has more to do with Trixie’s presence in the house rather than with a sudden interest Katya has taken in being a good roommate and/or chef.

After Courtney returns from the en-suite bathroom, Trixie goes in as well to brush her teeth. She assesses herself in the mirror, thinking back to the first time she slept over in the apartment, standing in the kitchen with a scolding hot cup of coffee, trying to use it as an excuse for herself as to why her body got so heated when Katya walked into the room. She’s wearing the same oversized pink sweatshirt she wore that morning, and has half a mind to put some pants on in an attempt to be more decent, but when she recalls how Katya’s eyes roamed over her long legs she discards the idea immediately. Her hair is slightly messy from sleep and she pulls it high with a scrunchie into a ponytail, unable to help but note how her face seems to be glowing. Inside her something feels light and new.

Satisfied that her breath is nothing but minty, and that she’s providing a full 90’s barbie fantasy, Trixie wanders out of the room and her eyes immediately fall on the small dining table. There are three plates set out, each with a heaping stack of pancakes, and near one of the plates there’s a beautiful pink flower, one that resembles those from the bouquet currently in a vase smack in the center of Trixie’s living room.

“Don’t touch anything before Trixie gets here!” Katya calls from the kitchen, somehow incredibly in tune with the fact Courtney was just reaching for the pancakes in the plate she’s sitting in front of. Courtney rolls her eyes at Trixie when she sees her approaching, and now she’s sure the Aussie doesn’t miss the way she blushes. “Oh, good morning.” Katya says with a shy smile when she comes out of the kitchen with a steaming pot of coffee, dressed in the same shirt as last night but this time no pants, only thigh high black socks with two teasing strips at the top of each, circling her thin legs. Trixie remembers all too well how soft they were under her lips. “This one’s yours.” She adds after a somewhat awkward silence, in which she may or may not have concentrated a little too hard on how adorable the freckle on Trixie’s left thigh is.

Looking down at the plate she already sensed is hers, the one with the pink flower next to it, Trixie notices that all three plates are different. While Courtney’s stack of pancakes is adorned with blueberries and jam, Trixie’s stack has pieces of bananas and strawberries, and she wonders how Katya knew. Sitting down, she wonders how the hell Katya always seems to understand her wordlessly, as if she sees into her soul. It’s not just her breakfast preferences, no, it’s the way Katya’s dumb jokes make her laugh harder than anybody else’s, and the way she can always sense when Trixie is uncomfortable with something and retreats, never pushing her too far. She also always seems to know exactly when, and how, to push Trixie, how to drive her out of her god damned mind, even with only a wink, or smile, or brush of her hand, or those god damned chaste little kisses she never stopped stealing.

Katya’s plate has less pancakes than the other two girls', and nothing on top, and Trixie can’t help but smile at the sight, remembering how much she struggled to believe Katya when she told her one time she doesn’t really like food. Courtney seems to have gotten used to her roommate’s strange eating habits by now and pays no mind to it, digging into her meal with gusto. Trixie also hopes she misses the small smile the two of them share, and the “thank you” Trixie mouths to Katya, biting her inner cheek when she feels a fluttering in her stomach that she knows has nothing to do with the meal in front of her.

Enjoying the (surprisingly) delicious pancakes that she has drowned in maple syrup, Trixie suddenly notices from the corner of her eye Courtney silently handing Katya a napkin. Katya takes it with a questioning look, not knowing how she possibly could have gotten herself dirty.

“You’re drooling all over our guest.” The Australian girl answers with a cocky smirk at Katya, motioning with her head towards Trixie.

“Jealousy’s a really ugly color on you, you know that?” Katya retorts, her head cocked to the side, and the reddening of her cheeks betraying her nonchalant demeanor.

Courtney rolls her eyes at that, turning her head to look at Trixie. “I like dick.” She says bluntly, as if to explain she couldn’t possibly be jealous of whatever it is that’s going on between the two girls.

“Well,” Trixie begins, laying a hand on Courtney’s shoulder, “at least somebody in this apartment does.”

There’s a moment of silence then, in which all three girls’ eyes widen, and then the two roommates erupt in a deafening laughter, followed by Trixie nervously hiding her face behind her palms. She has essentially never stated in such a blatant way where her interests lye, and where they do not. She has also never felt so strongly that she can, that she should, be true to herself and the way she feels. Slowly removing her hands from her face when Courtney leans in and hugs her sideways, still chuckling, she locks eyes with Katya across the table and sees that they’re glimmering with something that strikes her awfully like pride.

“On that note, I’m gonna go get ready for school.” The Russian girl says, getting up from the table and leaving her half-eaten breakfast behind, smacking Courtney’s head on her way to her room. Staring after her for a moment and watching the door shut, Trixie turns to the Australian girl who’s shaking her head with a smirk.

“Umm… I’ll be right back okay?” She asks, getting up from the table before she regrets it, not waiting to hear an answer.

Rather than knocking, she quietly lets herself into Katya’s room, the girl’s back turned away from the door as she stands in front of her bed. Upon hearing the door shut she turns around, and a smile immediately appears on her face when she sees who entered.

“Those socks were a really good investment.” Trixie says quietly. Grinning at her, Katya closes the distance between them with two long strides, and picks the blonde up, pinning her against the door and earning a surprised shriek from her. “I just came to say thank you for breakfast.” She says, but makes no move to leave, and wraps her arms around Katya’s neck.

“Then may I have a small kiss for all my hard labor?” She asks cheekily.

Considering the request, Trixie moves her hands to the other girl’s cheeks, and her palms are warm from when she kept them under the sleeves of her sweatshirt, or from holding the mug of hot coffee, or from the fire that burns inside her whenever she touches Katya. Closing her eyes and leaning down, she softly pecks her lips, once, and then twice, and it feels entirely different than it ever has. It feels more right than it ever did.

“Listen,” Katya begins, detaching their lips after a third sweet kiss, “Courtney’s sleeping over at her brother’s place tomorrow, you should come over.” Trixie then gives her a look that says she asking for too much, and she rushes to elaborate. “Completely platonic, I promise, we can just watch Harry Potter and eat ice cream.” She says, and then with a smirk adds “Naked.”

“Ah, the lesbian fantasy.” Trixie smiles at her, pondering whether she should agree or not.

“Baby, _you_ are the lesbian fantasy.” Katya says, leaning in again so Trixie could feel the words against her lips. “Please Pixie.” She whispers, knowing far too well the effect that name has on the girl.

Feeling utterly helpless against the nickname and the feeling of Katya’s lips so close to hers, Trixie decides to cave. “Fine,” She says, rolling her eyes at her own weakness at the Russian’s mere presence, “but no funny business!” She adds, pushing Katya away slightly with a hand on her chest so she could see the seriousness in her eyes. Despite the fact that it is no longer deniable she is attracted to Katya, and has quite strong and confusing feelings towards her, Trixie still feels uncertain as to how she should act, and unsure what the other girl’s intentions are.

“Deal.” Katya says, looking back at her with the same seriousness and nodding her head. Then, of course, the straight line of her lips curves into a smile again. “May I have another kiss?”

Unwrapping her legs from around Katya’s waist, she brings her hands to cup her face again, looking deeply into those ever-shining blue eyes of hers. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She whispers, so close she can feel Katya’s breath on her lips, and leaves the room.

* * *

The ringing of the doorbell brings Katya out of the daze she was in, staring blindly at her own hands, nervously peeling off her black nail polish. She jumps from the couch and makes her way to the door, taking a deep breath before she pulls it open. The preparation appears to be ineffective, however, because nothing ever has her truly ready to face the beautiful blonde girl that resembles a doll more than an actual person. No human being has the capacity to look that perfect.

With a shy smile and a quite “hi” she walks in to apartment, and Katya shuts the door behind her, taking another unhelpful big breath. She sees Trixie’s eyes taking in all the things she has set up in the living room – how she pushed the coffee table aside in order to lay down a big thick blanket, the throw pillows she has set against the foot of the couch, all eight Harry Potter DVDs neatly splayed out, and an unreasonable amount of Ben and Jerry’s pints next to them, with two spoons crossed over one another beside the ice creams. Like always, Katya’s nerves get the best of her, and she begins rambling before she can stop herself.

“I didn’t really know which flavors you prefer, so I just got Cookie Dough, Cherry Garcia, Chocolate Fudge Brownie, Cinnamon Buns, Cookies and cream, Chunky Monkey, and, um… vanilla, just in case.” She finished the long list, avoiding looking at Trixie’s boggling eyes. “And if you don’t like any of these flavors then I’m sorry but I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Oh, okay.” Trixie says, turning to walk towards the door.

“Wait, what, no!” Katya calls, reaching out her hand to wrap it around the girl’s hand and spin her around. “Do you not like any of them?!” She asks, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Actually, these are like, my favorite flavors.” Trixie smiles, chuckling softly at how nervous Katya seems, never having seen her quite like that. “Except for Chunky Monkey, I can’t really get into the whole walnuts storyline.”

“Yeah, same. Nuts aren’t really our thing, are they?” Katya asks with a smirk, seeming to have gained confidence rather quickly after her ice cream success. Granted, it isn’t really all that impressive considering she spent thirty minutes picking the seven flavors at the store, nearly buying every flavor the place had to offer.

Trixie expectedly rolls her eyes at that, but chuckles nonetheless, and walks over to sit down on the blanket and against the couch, not quite at the center, but close enough for Katya to be able to sit not too far away.

“Okay, now, we have the difficult decision to make as to which movie to watch. I am willing to grant you the power to decide, but you should know that this can be a deal breaker.” She tells Trixie once they’ve settled down, her tone as serious as she can get it to be, taking the DVDs into her hands and splaying them out as if they were a deck of cards.

“Well obviously it has to be Prisoner of Azkaban.” Trixie says with ease, making a face that tells Katya she thinks the mere question is absurd.

“I think we should get married.”

“I think we should watch the movie.” Trixie quips back without blinking, and Katya can’t help but love the way the girl is always so quick on her feet, always up for the game without any warmup.

“Fine, I guess we could do that first.” She mutters under her breath as she puts the movie in.

Going back against the couch while the Warner Brothers opening segment starts, Katya reaches down for the Cookie Dough pint, only to have her hand swatted away by Trixie. Of course they have a similar favorite flavor. Their food preferences are so wildly different, and yet this is the one thing Trixie seems to like the same of. Admittedly, Katya can’t really bring herself to care, she would probably be willing to give up the flavor all together and forever just to be able to hear again the quiet little moan that escapes Trixie’s lips when she eats the first spoonful of ice cream.

Reaching carelessly to one of the other flavors on the floor, she picks up the random pint and focuses her eyes back on the movie. The ice cream is cold on her tongue, and she wishes she could warm it up against Trixie’s, but decides that she should probably refrain from making that comment out loud. Quickly enough, the two of them get absorbed in the movie, and she occasionally glances sideways at Trixie to see the stunning way her big eyes widen even more whenever something exciting happens on the screen.

“What would be your Boggart?” She asks Trixie, setting her ice cream down after having eaten more than half the pint.

“Bees.” The girl answers immediately, not taking her eyes off the movie.

“Bees?”

“Bees.” She says again, turning hear head to Katya and raising her eyebrow, as if daring her to make fun of her (very valid, thank you very much) fear.

“I think mine would be Crime and Punishment, I read that fucking book in three languages and it sucked in all three.”

“I think yours would be a properly matched shade of foundation.”  

“You are so mean!” Katya says, her mouth open with mock shock and offense.

“ _You_ are so not watching the film like you should be.” Trixie retorts with a smile. When Katya huffs with frustration and turns her head back around, however, the blonde sets down her ice cream and scoots to sit closer, so that their arms are touching.

Smiling to herself, Katya decides to be a little bolder than the girl sitting next to her, and after ten more minutes of the film she moves her fingers on the blanket until they find Trixie’s and laces them together. Trixie instantly squeezes her fingers between her own, and a warmth spreads through Katya’s entire body. After some more minutes pass, she finds herself incapable of focusing on the movie any longer, especially since Trixie has started tracing little circles on the back of her hand with her thumb.

“Pixie?” She asks quietly, reveling again in the way the name always has the other girl’s immediate attention.

“Hmm?” Trixie hums in question, her eyes leaving the screen to meet Katya’s.

“Would you like to sit on my lap and make out with me?”

With a grunt and a roll of her eyes, Trixie unexpectedly throws her right leg over to Katya’s other side, coming to straddle her hips and forcefully grabbing her chin with her free hand. “You’re impossible, do you realize that?” She asks her, not quite shouting, but certainly not at a decibel that could be considered normal.

“Impossible to resist?” Katya asks in return, hope and mischief emanating from her voice, eyes and wide grin.

With an exasperated sigh, Trixie answers her – “Yes.” And then her lips are on Katya’s, and her hand moves to grasp the nape of her neck, and Katya’s in heaven. Trixie's soft lips press firmly against hers, and her incredible scent surrounds them like a thick cloud. With Harry Potter playing in the background, she almost feels guilty admitting to herself that kissing Trixie is the most magical thing on earth. Almost.

She releases the hand she was holding in favor of wrapping her arms around Trixie’s back, bringing the girl as close to her as possible, and opening her lips slightly, hoping Trixie would take her up on her silent invitation. She does, thankfully, tangling her hands in Katya’s wavy golden locks and slides her tongue into her mouth. It’s warm, and smooth, and Katya doesn’t even bother to battle her for domination, because she wants Trixie to take all of her, all she has to offer. She kisses her deeply, pouring into the kiss all the words that always jumble around in her mind and escape her lips in an intelligible mess. Her lips have better plans now anyways, plans of kissing Trixie into delirium.

Moving her hands, she brings them to grasp Trixie’s narrow waist, her thumbs brushing against her ribs, trying desperately to bring them so close together neither of them can breathe. Detaching their lips to the sound of Trixie’s disapproving whimper, she trails her mouth to tug on the girl’s earlobe lightly with her teeth.

“You drive me crazy Pixie.” She breathes into her ear, and then lets her mouth travel lower, placing hot and wet kisses over her neck.

“Katya.” Trixie moans lowly, her nails digging into the Russian girl’s scalp. When her lips reach Trixie’s clavicle, however, she finds herself feeling overwhelmed and gently pushes Katya away. “Too fast.” Is all she says, breathing heavily and looking at the way her pink lipstick is smeared all over Katya’s lips, imagining her own lips are probably bare by now.

“Okay. Okay, you’re right.” Katya nods, panting too, her hands tightening around Trixie’s waist in an attempt to calm herself down.

“I can sleep over if you want.” She offers, smiling sweetly as she wipes the lipstick off Katya’s face with her fingers.

“Yes, please, I would love that.”

“Let’s go.” She says, getting up and holding out her hand to help Katya get up too, not missing the way the girl seems less stable on her feet than usual. They make quick work of turning off the TV and setting all the ice creams in the fridge, then head together towards the bedroom.

Walking into Katya’s room, Trixie's eyes try to take in the pieces of the room she missed out on this morning, like the art equipment scattered all around the place, a necklace that seems to be made out of cigarettes on the floor, and tarot cards spread out on the bedside table. It screams Katya from every corner, and she feels oddly comfortable in the space, as if she belongs there.

“This is what you wear, bitch.” Katya says, drawing her out from her study of the books on the shelf, many of which are in languages she herself would never be able to imagine speaking, and hands her a folded black shirt that has Iron Maiden’s logo printed on. She thinks back to their text conversation a few weeks ago and laughs, knowing she deserves it. While Katya walks into the bathroom to change her clothes too and get ready for sleep, Trixie slips out of her clothes, leaving her underwear on, and slides into the oversized shirt. Given Katya’s measurements, their definitions of oversized are slightly different, however, and the shirt only barely covers her panties. She thinks for a second to ask for pants as well, but then remembers that not even twenty minutes ago her tongue was stuck down the other girl’s throat, and about two weeks ago in her vagina, so modestly is probably not actually all that necessary.

She settles into the far side of the bed, almost reaching its edge, thinking that some distance might help calm her tingling body and aching core. Katya, however, seems to have other plans, and when she emerges from the bathroom in a large t-shirt, she lifts the blanket and goes under it, scooting all the way over to where Trixie is lying on her side and slipping a leg between hers, throwing an arm around the girl’s waist to bring them tightly close.

Trixie can’t help but laugh at Katya’s shameless behavior, and the way she rubs her cold feet against Trixie’s bare calves. She brings her hand to gently push away a strand of hair the has fallen over the Russian girl’s eye, and decides to then leave her hand on her cheek.

“I had a really good time tonight.” Katya whispers into the darkness, barely able to make out the shape of Trixie’s face, and focuses rather on the incredible feeling of their breasts touching together through the soft fabric of their shirts.

“Me too.” Trixie whispers back, tracing Katya’s sharp cheekbone with the back of her finger.

“I have… Umm…” Katya starts, suddenly feeling nervous all over again. Trixie’s lips then touch hers, softly, a gentle peck that gives her all the courage she needs. “Next week is my final exhibition for a course, and I would really love it if you came. As my date.” She adds to clarify, gulping, her fingers anxiously playing with the strands of Trixie’s hair that have fallen against the mattress. “Would you like to come? As my date?”  

“Yeah," Trixie responds almost immediately, surprising herself, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, "I would.”

“You would?” Katya asks again, the smile audible in her voice, her hand moving to cup Trixie’s soft cheek. Trixie laughs against her lips, kissing her another blissful time.

“Yes.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guysss next chapter is the last one and I'm so sad this story is coming to an end, but also so thrilled about starting to write the next one!  
> Please please please let me know how you felt about this chapter and the story so far, your comments are oxygen xxx


	7. Chapter 7

A week later, Trixie walks alongside Courtney, entering the big space where the exhibition is taking place. She hasn’t seen Katya the whole week, because the girl spent her entire time at the studio, and at the exhibition hall, perfecting her collection. Trixie found it fascinating how dedicated Katya was to her art; where she seemed to be so uncalculated and carefree in all other aspects of her life, it appears that when it comes to art, Katya is a perfectionist, much like Trixie is with her make-up and music. She’s thrilled by the notion of getting to fully experience that side of Katya, to be immersed in it.

Looking around, Trixie nearly becomes dizzy with the amount of colors and different forms of paintings hung on the walls, and her eyes are unable to focus on any of them for more than a fleeting second. Across the room, her eyes then focus on the one thing they have been unable not to zone in on for months now, Katya. The ever breathtaking Katya. She’s wearing a ridiculously short and tight black dress, with long sleeves and a deep v-shaped cleavage that reveals her perfectly shaped perky breasts, a pair of black heels so tall Trixie has a hard time believing the clumsy girl manages to walk in, and of course, a big plaid flannel shirt, asserting the fact that she doesn’t actually care what people think about her style, that she would always find a way to rebel against mainstream fashion. It’s endearing, and hot, and perfectly Katya. Even her make-up tonight seems to be more precise, that more effort has been put into it, the black eyeshadow that’s typically carelessly painted around her eyes now looks to have been meticulously applied, and her red lips appear to somehow be redder than normal, fuller, more inviting than ever. Despite standing far away from the girl, there are three things that are still impossible not to notice. The first, is just how sharp her cheekbones are, the small amount of highlighter she has smeared on top of them practically shining blindingly, due to the angle. The second, is how blue her eyes are, a fact which Trixie never seems to be able to get used to, no matter how many nights she has spent thinking just about that very fact, no matter how many times she has seen them staring back at her with Katya’s ever-present mischief. The third thing Trixie can easily detect, even from across the room, is just how happy and in her element Katya seems to be. This is her domain, her kingdom, and she dominates the room even from the spot where she’s chatting animatedly with her classmates.

When she suddenly turns her head around and notices Trixie and Courtney at the entrance, she leaves the group without so much as a ‘goodbye’, a smile spreading slowly on her face the closer she gets. Trixie feels out of breath, suffocated, because the closer Katya gets the more beautiful she becomes. Trixie nearly wants to laugh at herself for not believing Katya could walk in her high heels, because the girl seems to find them as easy to walk in as in her ratty Converse. The way the muscles in her legs flex as she strides closer is mocking Trixie.

“Hi.” Katya breathes out when she reaches the girls, her eyes drinking in the vision that Trixie is. Knowing that this is their first official date together, and possibly the start of something quite significant in her life, Trixie wanted to look her very best tonight, just for Katya. She’s wearing her favorite dress, a pink number that’s exterior is made of soft tulle, and reaches to the middle of her calves. Her cleavage is on full display tonight, her feet clad in the highest pink pair of heels she owns, her hair wavy and held away from her face by a thin French braid, and she is almost certain she has never put as much time on her make-up than she did for this event. Despite all of those, she cannot help but feel like she’s only the second most beautiful person in the room.

“Hi! Remember me? Your roommate?” Courtney asks, waving her hand between the faces of the two girls who seem incapable of tearing their eyes away from each other. “Let me remind you, then, I’m Courtney, the girl who’s very discretely been pushing for this to happen all along.” She adds, pointing between the two of them and exaggerating a frustrated huff.

“Hi, honey.” Katya says with a chuckle, coming over to hug her tightly. “Thank you for coming, it means the world.” She tells her sincerely, holding her arms to make sure she knows she means the words entirely.

“I’m so proud of you Katya.” The Australian girl says, smiling up at her roommate. “But please tell me I’m not gonna be a third wheel the whole night.”

“Umm… Actually, Court, I think you might be unicycling tonight.” She says, nervously scratching her neck. “But you can try to tag along with my friend Adore, she’s over there by the stage, I bet you’ll love her.”

“Yeah, and maybe I could then ask her to move in with me after my old roommate is found dead in a ditch.” She replies, rolling her eyes again but making her way over to the other girl nonetheless, understanding her friend’s wish to be alone with her date.

“You look so beautiful.” Katya says quietly, turning around to face Trixie again, who’s been silently watching the interaction all along.

“So do you.” Trixie replies with the same hushed tone, feeling suddenly that they are the only two people in the room. Katya gives her a shy smile at that and she laughs, never able to understand how Katya can be so confident one minute and then so coy and nervous the next. “Show me your paintings.”

“No.” Katya says sternly, taking her hand and pulling Trixie to start walking with her. “We’re gonna look at everybody else’s together, and then you can look at mine by yourself.”

“Why?” Trixie asks her when they come to a halt in front of a very confusing piece of art.

“Because… I care about you. A lot. And I care about art a lot. So if you hate the collection I want you to have enough time to come up with a good lie.” Katya says, unable to make eye contact with the girl next to her.

“I’m sure it’s incredible, Katya.” Trixie says truthfully, the thought of Katya creating something less than phenomenal almost absurd to her, because Katya’s wild mind is precisely the thing she has in common with the most acclaimed artists, and what makes her so unique.

“Let’s play a game!” The girl says excitedly, trying to ignore the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. “Look at the painting and try to guess its title.”

“Okay…” Trixie starts, with a tentative smile, returning her eyes to the abstract painting in front of her. It has a large splash of an opaque brown paint in the center of the canvas and nothing else. “I spilled my coffee and called it art?” She asks, not wanting to insult the artist, but incapable of seeing any meaning in the brown blotch. Katya seems to like her answer, and she lets out her wheezy smoker laughter.

“He actually named it ‘The Death of Democracy’, but I like yours much better.” Katya says, still laughing, and tightens her grip on Trixie’s hand.

They continue walking around the room slowly, stopping in front of each painting, sometimes admiring the intricate details and others laughing at the incredulous efforts students made to have their works considered “contemporary” or “new age.” They meet a few of the students, Katya’s friends, and she makes sure every time to introduce Trixie as her date, smiling with pride and leaning to kiss her cheek. What Trixie was most surprised at, and loved most, was the way her friends’ eyes lit up with recognition at the sound of her name, and a knowing smile spread across their faces. She isn’t quite sure what it is that they believe to know, but it appears to be positive. As they walk around the oval room, Trixie can sense Katya becoming increasingly more nervous.

“Katya,” She starts, quietly, after nearly an hour of walking around, “I wanna see your paintings now.”

Katya looks at her and takes a deep breath, then nods and leads her to a wall that stands solitary in the middle of the room, which she did not see until now because their backs were to it. Looking around the space, Trixie realizes how significant it is that Katya’s works have been displayed at the very center of the exhibition, separate from all others. When they reach the edge of the wall, Katya holts and leans her hand against it, preventing Trixie from advancing. Looking to the wall her palm is lying flat against, Trixie reads aloud the name of the collection.

“Pixie Dust and Cigarette Ashes?” She asks her, voice trembling.

“Yeah.” Katya says, looking down and nervously chewing her bottom lip. “That’s.. Uhh… That’s you and me.” She lifts her head again, trying to decipher the look on Trixie’s face.

“Well go away, I want to see.” Trixie says, a fluttering in her stomach, not knowing what she’s going to encounter, and not knowing how to feel about the fact the collection seems to be concerned with her, with her and Katya.

Katya takes another deep breath and with a final nod and a squeeze of Trixie’s hand, she leaves, wandering off on shaky legs over to Courtney and Adore. Slowly, Trixie begins to walk along the wall, holding onto it for support, and gasps when she reaches the first painting. In it is a floor, onto which lies a crumpled pink dress, what seems to be a pair of underwear, a pink pair of heels, and wings, like those that adorn fairies’ shoulders in movies. In the corner of the painting there’s the edge of a bed, and the entire scene strikes Trixie as oddly familiar. Looking down at the date, she sees the painting must have been drawn mere days after her and Katya’s first encounter at the party, and the thought sends her reeling. Unable to process what that could possibly even mean, she looks down at the title of the painting, and her heart clenches when she reads it.

_You Looked Straight Out of a Fairytale_

Her knees buckle when she reads the title again and again, staring at the incredible details of the painting, the color palette that so accurately seems to reflect the storm of emotions she had felt that night, and that she feels right now. It was the night the nickname she’s grown so attached to was born, along with her inability to stop thinking about a blue-eyed Russian girl. Forcing her legs to continue moving, she moves on to the next painting and is struck by the amount of pink that fills up almost the entire canvas. In the middle are two sleeved arms, ending in hands holding a steaming mug with a brown liquid inside. Not recognizing the significance of the date scribbled at the bottom of the painting, except for the fact it had been drawn about a month later, her eyes move to read the title.

_You Came Back Smelling Like Coffee and Sunshine_

And then realization hits her. The painting is of her, in the pink sweatshirt she had worn in Katya’s kitchen, the morning she saw her again and was almost shocked to realize that even a month later, in an entirely different setting, the girl has an ability to stir parts of her she thought were dormant, even with just a look. And most definitely with a stolen kiss. She remembers vividly how rattled she had been to see Katya again, after she was so sure she would never see her again, after she had spent an entire month convincing herself to forget her, forget how good she made her feel, how much she loves the female body, and Katya’s body in particular. Shaking the conflicting memory, she continues walking down the wall, and goes to stand in front of the next painting, which has in its center an overflowing make-up bag, with mascaras, lipsticks and blushes filling it to the brim. At the left corner of the painting is what seems like a kiss that has been planted onto the canvas, by red painted lips, enhanced to fit the proportions of the surfaces.

_You Stared Into My Soul_

She knows exactly what this painting is showing. It is describing the night she had done Katya’s make-up, and found herself practically drowning in her eyes. She recalls precisely how she was incapable of preventing a smile from spreading on her face when she saw the way they glistened, piercing and mischievous and beautiful. And then Katya kissed her. She kissed her and Trixie forgot for a few seconds everything she has ever known, and every promise she has made. All she could think about in those moments swas that Katya’s lips are perfect. So perfect.

Subconsciously lifting trembling fingers to her lips, her flesh remembering the feeling as vividly as her mind does, she carries herself over to the next painting. Her eyes widen when she sees the picture, how alive it is with details, how much restraint and unadulterated passion it shows. The painting depicts a hand, tightly gripping one of two thighs under a table, the hem of a pink skirt barely visible, with underwear peaking from between the legs. More than anything, the painting unequivocally shows the struggle of the hand, trying desperately not to push things too far, or perhaps trying to imprint fingertips onto the pale skin. The mere memory of their library encounter sends shivers down Trixie’s spine, and she has no doubt that that’s the scene shown in the painting.

_You Felt Like Silk Under My Fingers_

Trixie can feel her breaths starting to come in shorter intervals, struggling to make their way into her lungs. She finds herself unexpectedly overcome with admiration for Katya’s talent, for the accuracy with which she paints, how she manages to make each scene feel so hauntingly alive, and raise goosebumps on Trixie’s skin. Then she wants to laugh at herself when that thought crosses her mind, realizing how it all makes complete sense, because Katya herself has always managed to have that effect on her, so her art should be no different.

Slowly tearing her eyes away from the painting, she finally lets out a quiet laugh when she sees the next one. In it, are hung on hangers one beside the other, a black shirt with an Iron Maiden logo, and a short pink nightgown. The image sends her back to that night, when after their library interaction, Katya had texted her demanding to understand why she and her boyfriend were together. In retrospect, Trixie wants to beat herself up for being so insistent on complying with her parents’ wishes, despite having no doubt that she will never be attracted to men, and that she is absolutely captivated by Katya and her hypnotizing presence.

_You Mocked Me in the Most Endearing Way_

She feels now endlessly grateful for Katya’s unyielding insistence, for how easily the girl seems to have been able to see through her from the very first moment. She’s amazed that Katya has been able to remain hopeful even when Trixie had been so sarcastic and hard with her, amazed that Katya found these small interactions between them so meaningful, and had – literally – painted them in such a beautiful light. Thinking back on their time together, and trying to chronologically place the following significant event in their few months of knowing one another, Trixie has an inkling that she knows what the following painting will depict, and she braces herself against the wall for the support she knows she’ll need if her suspicions are correct.

When she reaches the next artwork, she blesses herself for her choice, and allows herself to fall slightly against the sturdy surface that proves itself as very much necessary. The picture is perhaps the most detailed of all the ones she has seen so far, and oozes with tension, with raw desire. On the canvas are two figures, their whole bodies shown except for the heads. The painting shows a woman clad in a white jumpsuit and high heels, caging another woman in a cheerleader outfit and sneakers against a bathroom counter. Trixie swallows harshly as she takes in all the intricate details of the painting, how Katya has drawn her straining muscles under the sleeves of the white one-piece, and how she drew her own hands as clenching at her sides, the way they did, unsure of what she is allowed to do. She knows for a fact she would never be able to forget how good it felt to mark Katya as hers, a secret bruise only she could see, and how incredible it was to make her come undone.

_You Didn’t Kiss Me Where I Wanted You Most_

Trixie does a double-take when she reads the title Katya chose for the piece. And then she remembers. She remembers that the first thing Katya had asked her when she walked into the room was a kiss, how her eyes zoomed in on her lips that were for once painted red as well, and how she had only used endearments the whole time – ‘princess’, ‘baby’, ‘Pixie’. Always Pixie. It all then comes crashing down on her at once. The fact that this collection is practically a timeline of their story, the fact that the first painting was drawn after their very first meeting, when there was no way for Katya to know they would ever see each other again. It was never just a chase. The Russian girl had truthfully and insistently been trying to show her just how much she wants her, not just her body, but all of her, and how much she wants Trixie to allow herself to be wanted.

The next picture does nothing but confirm the theory. It shows two hands typing on a cellphone, and the bottom of a face, illuminated by the light from the screen, with a smiling mouth, that’s lips are painted red.

_You Called Me Baby at Midnight_

Trixie feels a tear prickling at the corner of her right eye when she looks at the painting again, sees how happy the smile appears, how it looks precisely like Katya’s enchanting and ever-present grin. She remembers that night, remembers how excited Katya had gotten when she called her that name, remembers knowing in her heart that everything is about to change. The next painting is the one that makes the tear escape her eye. It shows a plate stacked with pancakes, strawberries and bananas, and a pink rose lying beside it. Her heart skips a beat when she recalls the stunning little smile Katya had given her across the breakfast table. Then when she reads the title, she all but gives up on the chances if her heart beating normally again anytime soon.

_You Tasted Like Maple Syrup and Hope_

She brings a sweaty hand to her chest, clutching at it through her dress, trying to force her heart to quiet down before she approaches the final painting of the collection. Trixie knows these paintings are a window into Katya’s soul, her complex thought process, and it is utterly dazzling. It gives Trixie a whole new perspective on their months of knowing one another, on all their interactions, and what they had meant. Not just to Katya, but to herself also. Each of the paintings tugs harshly at her heart, draws dizzyingly beautiful memories vividly in her mind, and allows her to connect the dots between each depicted interaction, to remember all the incredible moments which did not even meet the canvases. All the times Katya had briefly grazed her fingers with her own, all the times she laughed at her jokes harder than Courtney or anyone around them, all the times Katya winked at her across the room and made electricity course through her, and all the tiny kisses she managed to sneak in between, never allowing Trixie to forget how she truly feels, who she really is.

The final picture, however, is the most beautiful of them all, exudes peace and serenity, and feels like the most perfect way for the collection to end. The scene in the painting shows two women, dressed only in large shirts, their legs tangled and their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Their faces are not showing, but the woman on the right, the one Trixie knows is meant to be her, has her blonde hair spilling on the mattress of the bed the two girls are lying on. Much like it was a week ago, the women are lying intertwined on the far-right side of the bed, and the detailing of the painting shows in an almost unbelievable way how the fingers of each of the figures’ hands are holding onto the other securely. The painting somehow conveys perfectly the safety Trixie had felt that night, in Katya’s strong embrace, in her bed, with her lips resting against her forehead and kissing it even in her sleep.

_You Finally Said Yes_

Her hand is unable to unclench from its grip on her chest and the top of her dress, and she suddenly notices that tears are now streaming uncontrollably down her face. Trixie doesn’t even know how to feel, and wishes someone would have set up a bench in front of the collection, so she could look at all nine paintings together, read them like a book, the story of her stupidity, and undeniable crave for one beautiful crazy woman.

“Are you the girl from the paintings?” A voice behind her shakes her from her thoughts, and she spins around to see a woman that appears to be in her late fifties. Looking back at the paintings, a small smile tugs at the corners of her lips, where she can feel the salt of her tears

“I… I am.” Trixie answers, almost not believing the reality of it. The knowledge that someone, that Katya, has feelings so strong for her that she dedicated the past few months of her life to creating art pieces that reflect their interactions, is baffling.

“I’m Mrs. Kasha Davies, Katya’s teacher.” She says, holding her hand out and shaking Trixie’s trembling one. “You’re very lucky to have her, these art works are exquisite, they show so much passion and emotion.” She says with a smile that is knowing, a smile of a woman who’s seen a thing or two in her life. When she sees Trixie is incapable of speaking, and the way she keeps glancing back at the paintings with tears in her eyes and a watery smile, she continues. “I almost didn’t let her do that last painting, we never allow students to hand in new work a week before the exhibition, but she insisted, she said it’s either I let her add it or she won’t be showing her works at all.”

“She’s very persistent.” Trixie says with a small laugh, in awe that Katya was so determined, ready to risk her grade for the sake of fighting to show the world the moment Trixie finally allowed herself to live the way she wants to, to be the way she wants to, with Katya.

“Oh, what did you do, Kasha? How the hell did you make her cry?” Katya asks, arriving seemingly out of nowhere, wrapping an arm around her teacher’s shoulders, her face scolding Kasha and worried for Trixie all at once.

“Hey, she was like that when I got here!” The woman says, raising her hands as if to prove her innocence. “Anyways, I got to go on stage to make some announcements, keep your ears open.” She adds, and with a squeeze of Katya’s waist, leaves the two girls.

“What is it Pixie, do you hate the paintings?” Katya asks quietly, gently wiping Trixie’s tears away, looking at her with worry and biting her bottom lip in the way Trixie has come to realize means she’s anxious.

“No, Kat, I love them.” She says, taking her hands in her own and squeezing them tightly, looking into her beautiful blue eyes. “I… I love _you_.”

“Come on Zamo, they’re announcing the winner.” A voice behind them is heard, and suddenly the wide-eyed Katya is being swept away by an arm around her, a girl pulling her to run alongside her to the stage. Trixie, feeling rattled by her own confession, a confession she had made to Katya as much as she had made it to herself, again tonight has to force her legs to move. With each step, however, she feels more confident. She feel confident that what she said was absolutely true, and confident that she wants to say it again and again, staring into Katya’s eyes.

“Alright, kids, settle down.” Mrs. Kasha begins, trying to get the group of excited students, along with all their friends and some of their parents, to calm down. “Firstly, I would like to give a big thank you to the Matthews gallery for hosting us tonight and letting us use their space for this extraordinary exhibition. I had a wonderful time teaching you guys, and it’s an absolute pleasure to see all your works.” She says, and waits for the applause to quiet down. Katya is standing right in front of the stage with her friends, and Trixie a bit behind, next to Courtney, watching the excited girl and sharing a smile between them. “As you know, every year we give out the Andre-Charles award to the student who has shown the most outstanding progress during the semester, and has presented the most unique collection. This year, I am very proud to present the award to Katya Zamolodchikiva, and her collection Pixie Dust and Cigarette Ashes.” She says proudly, and the small crowd erupts in a loud round of applause, the friends surrounding the Russian patting her on the back and hugging her to them. She turns her head to look for Trixie, and when their eyes meet she smiles widely at her, the excitement reflected in all her features, and Trixie’s heart fills with pride, her hands nearly numbing with how hard she’s clapping them. “Come on up dear, tell us a little bit about the collection.”  

Katya slowly detaches their gazes, and makes her way up to the stage, holding onto the stairs’ rail with a visibly shaking hand. When she reaches the stage, she hugs Kasha and takes the small envelope from her, the room clapping again and students whistling to encourage her.

“Umm… I’m not too good with words.” Katya starts, voice quivering into the microphone. “Which is why I tried to pour my feelings onto these paintings, and I hope they convey how I feel better than how I’m doing right now. This collection is… It’s a journey. It’s a journey through only a handful of the moments that made me fall completely and utterly in love with the most beautiful pink creature in the world.” She then straightens her eyes, from where they were previously staring unseeingly at the microphone, and finds Trixie’s across the room, speaking the next words directly to her. “I love you Pixie, thank you for being my muse.”

The crowd cheers again then, clapping and calling her name, but Katya hears none of that. She’s running down the stairs as quickly as her heeled feet would take her. Seeing her rushing down the stairs, Trixie walks quickly to wait for her, arms open and smile achingly big. Finally reaching one another, Katya takes Trixie in her arms and lifts her as much as she can, given the other is actually taller, holding her tightly and breathing in all that Trixie is to her.

“I love you baby.” She whispers, pulling back slightly so she can stare into the brown eyes she has fallen in love with.

“I love you too, Kat, I really really do.” Trixie whispers back, feeling like they’re the only people in the room, and perhaps in the universe itself.

And then they’re kissing. Their lips meet softly at first, hesitating, unaccustomed to having their feelings so openly declared, and so unconditionally reciprocated. Then Katya’s fingers entangle in Trixie’s long locks, and Trixie’s hands pull on the lapels of Katya’s flannel, bringing her impossibly closer, and they’re gone for. They kiss with abandon, oblivious to the people around them, glaring at their passion, because all they can do is concentrate on the way their lips glide perfectly together, how their tongues dance in cohesion. How they are one.

* * *

“Alright,” Trixie starts saying after opening her apartment door, setting the keys and her purse down, her other hand tugging on Katya’s, not having left it ever since her very public confession. “Kitchen, living-room, bathroom,” She says, pointing in the direction of each but not stopping her walking, then spins around, “bedroom.” She says with a one-sided grin, biting her tongue between her teeth, and staring Katya up and down as she stands in front of the closed door of her room.

“If you don’t let me inside in the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna have to do you against the door, just a heads up.” Katya tells her sincerely, mimicking her smile, her voice low with desire.  

Spinning around again, her dress twirling with her and grazing the skin of Katya’s bare legs, she pushes down on the handle and opens the door to her dimly lit room. Once inside, Trixie wastes no time, and moves her hair to one side and over her shoulder, silently asking Katya to unzip her dress.

“After we make love,” Katya begins, whispering in Trixie’s ear and slowly tugging down on the delicate zipper, causing the girl to hold her breath in anticipation for what she’ll say next, “you’re gonna put those heels back on and I’ll fuck you senseless.”

Shuddering, Trixie turns around to face the Russian girl, her dress coming to pool at her feet as she does so, revealing a matching set of strapless bra and thong, pink silk and lace the only things protecting her from Katya’s heated gaze.

“Only if you do the same.” She answers, raising her brow.

“Deal, baby.” Katya breaths out, and grasps Trixie’s small waist so she could pull her closer, as close as she can, attacking her lips. She kisses her hungrily, holding nothing back as they both step out of their shoes. Her tight grip on the girl’s waist is the only thing that prevents her from devouring Trixie once she snakes her tongue into her mouth, and reminds Katya for the millionth time this evening just how enticingly better everything with her is. How perfectly they fit together. When Trixie’s lips trail off, to place open mouthed kisses along her jaw, pulling down blindly on her dress and shirt, Katya’s certain she just might lose her mind forever tonight.

Noticing the way Trixie seems incapable of taking off her clothes and sucking on her neck at the same time, Katya replaces her hands with her own and pushes the garments down her body and off, priding herself for having her priorities straight.

“Wait,” Trixie says, coming up for air when she feels Katya’s hands at the clasp of her bra, “too much make-up.”

She then rushes over to what she has pointed to as being the bathroom earlier in the very brief “tour” of the apartment she had given Katya. Returning, she has in her hand a couple of make-up removing wipes, and hands one to Katya. Instead of cleaning her own face, Katya slaps the wipe onto Trixie’s face and starts messily wiping at it, with no particular pattern or direction, causing the girl to laugh uncontrollably and do the same. They make a sloppy job of it all, unable to contain their laughter, their lips stained from the lipsticks they have worn all evening and a dark halo still vaguely surrounding Katya’s eye.

“You’re so beautiful.” Trixie says, letting her hands roam over Katya’s scantily clad body. Her dress made it impossible and unnecessary to wear a bra, so all she is sporting is a tiny red lace thong, and Trixie’s mouth waters with want. Katya’s cheeks bloom with a color resembling that of her underwear at Trixie’s sweet words, and she guides her towards the bed. Letting go of her hands, she watches as Trixie settles at the center of the bed, back resting on the pillows leaned against the headboard, impatiently waiting for Katya to join her.

“Come on already, stop staring.” She says, chuckling at the dumbfounded look on Katya’s face when she tries to take in the glory of an almost naked Trixie. That face morphs, however, into a look of sheer lust, and she slowly crawls onto the bed as well, pulling on Trixie’s legs so she’ll lie on her back.

“I’ll never stop staring at you, Pixie.” She says quietly against her lips, then leans down to kiss her softly, pressing one peck after another, unable to fathom just how divine the simple joy of kissing Trixie is. Bringing her hands around her, she finally unclasps the strapless bra, and throws it away almost angrily, as if she’s offended by the garment for covering up Trixie’s body. When her large breasts come into view, Katya immediately takes them in her hands, massaging them and reveling in how heavy they feel in her palms. “I missed you guys.” She whispers against her breasts, earning a screeching laughter from Trixie, one that is abruptly turned into a moan when Katya latches her mouth onto one rosy nipple. She sucks on it with determination, bringing her fingers to play with the other.

“I love you so much.” Trixie says breathily, her hands coming to rest on Katya’s head, fingers grasping onto the golden waves of her hair.

“Shh, you’re interrupting our reunion.” Katya tells her without looking up, and switches to treat the abandoned nipple, sucking on it with ever greater intent. Once more, Trixie’s laughter dies as it’s replaced by a whimper, her hips bucking up, seeking any friction she can get. Understanding silently what she needs, Katya reaches her hands to tug Trixie’s underwear down, letting the girl push them the rest of the way off so she could return her hands to grope at their object of fascination.

“Baby, come kiss me.” Trixie purrs, pulling on the strands of hair that are between her fingers to drag Katya’s head up. She feels entirely useless due to her incapability of not kissing Katya at any given moment. Luckily, the girl obliges without much resistance, and sighs with content as she captures Trixie’s lips in a searing kiss. Using the opportunity, Trixie flips them over so she’d be on top, and makes the same trail of hot kisses she did earlier in the evening, only this time continuing even lower.

“Hi, so nice to meet you, I’m gonna treat you so well.” She says against Katya’s round breasts, taking them in her hands and loving how she can wrap her palms around them. Laughing together with Katya at her own joke, she struggles to wrap her lips around a nipple, so she settles for letting her tongue slip out of her mouth, flicking the pink tip and taking the other between two fingers, tugging gently until she feels it harden between them.

“Please sit on my face.” Katya grunts, head thrown against the pillow while Trixie’s tongue works miracles on her sensitive breasts.

Groaning at the way the line shoots fireworks through her body, Trixie sadly departs from the breasts she has only now been formally introduced to and already fallen in love with. She makes quick work of Katya’s underwear, sending them flying across the room and gracelessly hitting the wall. She then halts for a moment, letting herself take in the beautiful way Katya’s muscles contort with restraint, how swollen her lips had gotten under the spell of Trixie’s own. She trails kisses up her toned body, letting her hands lead the way, and places a teasing little kiss directly on Katya’s clit, causing her hips to jerk. She laughs against the wet flesh, breathing in the scent of Katya’s desire. The raw smell of her renders Trixie unable to resist, and she licks a long line from Katya’s entrance up to her clit, kissing it once more, then straightening up and smiling at the speechless girl.

“I could kill you for that.” Katya says lowly, her hands going to grip Trixie’s thick thighs tightly, and her pupils so dilated that her eyes appear more black than blue. “Bring your gorgeous ass over here right now.”

Endlessly turned on by the control Katya is taking, Trixie scoots over until she can safely straddle her face. When Katya gives her a small nod and a squeeze of her thighs, Trixie lowers herself to finally make contact with her mouth. She groans immediately, Katya’s lips wrapping all around her, sucking on the juices that have begun dripping down her thighs what feels like hours ago. She holds onto the headboard tightly once Katya starts circling her clit with her tongue, afraid she might lose all semblance of balance and choke the girl to death. Trixie already feels her body going limp, all her nerve endings standing at attention, waiting for the next swipe of Katya’s tongue.

She eats her out with earnest, with a fervent hunger that makes Trixie weak, and forces ragged breaths and whiney moans out of her mouth. She insists on keeping her eyes open, watching how Katya closes hers in concentration, and when the girl moans into her, Trixie all but screams, the sound vibrating inside of her and making her impossibly close to the edge.

She then leans back from the head board, one hand grasping onto Katya’s muscular thigh for leverage and the other searching until she finds Katya’s wet center. The girl moans into her again, and Trixie slides two fingers easily inside of her as her eyes roll back in her head, incapable of feeling anything except for the way Katya’s sucking on her aching clit. She starts pumping her fingers quickly, the noises in the room entirely obscene, obnoxiously sexual, moans and little whimpers mixing with wetness.

Opening her eyes again, Katya looks up to see Trixie’s breasts hypnotically bouncing as she adds a third finger into her hungry pussy. She lifts her hips, trying to get as much of Trixie as she can, and lifts her hands to play with Trixie’s puckered little nipples. The cry that Trixie lets out at that sends her into a frenzy, and she lets her tongue out again, touching Trixie’s clit in a way she’s starting to learn drives her insane.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so fucking close.” Trixie groans, her teeth then clenching tightly when she tries to focus on pleasuring Katya and on chasing her nearing orgasm.

Wanting nothing more than to see Trixie break apart on top of her, Katya pinches her nipples between her fingers and sucks hard on her clit. That seems to be all it takes, and Trixie calls out her name again and again, riding on Katya’s tongue through wave after wave of shattering bliss.

Breathing heavily, her hips bucking back and forth, she renews her rhythm inside Katya, and adds a thumb to rub against her swollen clit. Feeling herself nearing the very edge, Katya thirstily laps at Trixie’s still flowing pussy, feeling her clenching against her tongue. She brings one hand down from Trixie’s breasts to replace her thumb, and begins rubbing herself furiously.

“You’re so sexy Kat, I love you so much.” Trixie grunts out, still panting, and that sends Katya over the cliff. She comes harsh, and loud, clenching around Trixie’s fingers and moving her head so she could scream into her thigh. Her hips rock up and down as both her and Trixie’s fingers bring her down from her high slowly, until eventually both of them calm.

Trixie then throws her leg over so she could kneel on the mattress instead of on Katya, and slides down to lie beside her, both their chests still heaving. She wipes her wet fingers against the sheets and find Katya’s, lacing them together and turning her head sideways to look at the stunningly disheveled woman, her lips and chin still damp.

“You look like a mess.” Trixie laughs, her eyes adoringly drinking in Katya’s state of undone. Laughing too and shaking her head, Katya rolls on top of her and takes her other hand too, pinning both of them above her head.

“Yeah, but I’m your mess now.” She whispers, a joyful smile spreading before she leans down to pepper kisses all over Trixie’s face, spreading the wetness onto her too and making her laugh and squirm in her arms. “I love you, Pixie.” She says then, her eyes boring in Trixie’s that are still crinkled with laughter, begging her to understand just how much she means it.

“Me too baby. Me too.” She answers, attaching their lips together again and praying internally she would get to do just that, every day from now on, for the rest of her life.

* * *

A year and a half later the pair find themselves living together in what was formerly Trixie’s apartment, but is now theirs. The spaces that used to be decorated in pinks and baby blues now have the occasional red thrown in, and the previously empty walls are decorated with pictures of them, and Katya’s best art pieces. On Friday nights they walk hand in hand to the bar where Trixie now gets paid to perform, and she strums her guitar and sings about a red moon while Katya watches closely, mumbling the words along with her and shedding a quiet tear on those nights the place is extra full of people. The pride that swells in her chest then at seeing Trixie drawing in people with her music, her hauntingly beautiful voice, easy charm, and lyrics that seem to touch every person in the room in a different way. On those nights she holds her even closer, kisser her deeper, makes love to her more slowly, worshipping her existence in a way that lets Trixie know Katya is always her number one fan.

Her parents were far from excited when she first told them about her girlfriend, several months into their relationship, when she wanted to bring Katya home to spend some of the summer vacation with her in Wisconsin. Luckily, but not surprisingly, they abandoned most of their reservations the minute Katya walked in the door, confidently and unyieldingly holding Trixie’s hand and facing them head on. They fell in love with her talent for art, her knowledge of languages and literature. Trixie sat beside Katya as she praised her devotion to her studies and music, letting her parents know that she values Trixie for all that she is, and all that she’s going to become.

The final exhibition for her degree is the most major one she has had until then, and Katya works day and night to perfect each of the pieces, to make sure they portray her message in the clearest of ways. They present in a gallery much bigger than ever before, and collectors and other gallery owners are mingled between the crowd of proud parents, partners, and friends. Katya is nervous as always, but Trixie holds her hands as soon as she walks in, kisses her gently, and begs Katya to take her directly to her collection.

This one is like no other Katya has ever drawn before – it’s more detailed, more raw, more intimate than any other collection she has previously created, her progress as an artist so evident, and Trixie feels privileged that she got to witness some of that journey so closely. Her fingers tremble as they trace over the acrylic paint on the canvas, something Katya would usually scold her for doing, but tonight she cannot find the power or will to do so. She watches intently as Trixie’s eyes take in the paintings, each one consisting of a different part of her body, the body Katya tells her insistently is a work of art in itself. It feels personal, as if it shouldn’t be displayed out in the open, but Trixie knows the thought behind each of the pieces. She knows only Katya could tell that together they assemble to create her body, she knows how thrilled Katya is to get to show the way she sees Trixie to the world, without making it voyeuristic.

Katya then takes her to the main piece of the collection, and her eyes widen when she sees that it takes up almost an entire wall. Even though she has modelled for the piece, and has seen the size of the canvas before, it strikes her just now that it is even larger than life-size. The painting shows her, lying on her side and facing away, her legs tucked away so only the shape of her back and rare are visible, some parts obstructed by her flowing blonde hair. The idea was born one early evening when she was lying that way on their bed, and Katya walked into the room and yelled “Infinity!” Waking up groggily from her nap to the sound of her screaming girlfriend, Trixie had looked at her quizzically, and then Katya explained that when lying that way, Trixie’s body forms the shape of the sign of infinity. And that’s how she has titled the work itself and the collection too – _Infinite_. She said it’s because that’s what her love for Trixie is, infinite, and even a simple look at her confirms that again and again every single day.

Trixie remembers how Katya had taken her into the studio the very next day, locked the door, and slowly stripped her of her clothes, kissing her sweetly before directing her to lie down and positioning her body. She then set a mirror in front of Trixie, so she wouldn’t feel alone while she was painting and so they could speak, telling her just how perfect she is. After the first couple of hours, her body began cramping, and Katya set her brushes down and walked over, kneeling next to her and pushing her onto her back. Trixie remembers how Katya then slowly peeled off her own clothes, looking down at her with heavy lidded eyes, whispering that she’s so in love with her. That she’s more in love with her with each passing moment. Looking at the painting, she recalls how they had then made passionate love, with the sun setting behind the large windows of the studio. She recalls how she had whispered words about always into Katya’s ear, and how Katya moaned words about forever into her neck. She recalls feeling utterly _infinite_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe this story has come to an end! Thank you for everybody who's been reading and commenting, and to all those reading this story for the first time. Please leave some feedback behind, I'd love to hear your thoughts xxx


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